


Accidental

by Rosefield



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Depression, Evan "Buck" Buckley Needs A Hug, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Lawsuit (9-1-1 TV), Post-Tsunami (9-1-1), Post-lawsuit, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Worried Bobby Nash, Worried Eddie Diaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25988119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosefield/pseuds/Rosefield
Summary: It was an accident. He slipped. That doesn't mean he isn't going to take advantage of the opportunity that presents itself.----Post Lawsuit, Buck accidentally cuts his arm. He decides that maybe not getting help is best for everyone.---TW for suicidal idealization and injury that turns into a suicide attempt.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Athena Grant, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Bobby Nash, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 295
Kudos: 1594
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone!  
> I'm back in the wonderful world of writing! As well as slowly editing my older stories (which I don't love but want to leave up so am making them grammatically correct), I am also doing some more writing! I've got a few stories in mind but this is the first in the 9-1-1 fandom. 
> 
> Last chapter of this will be up tomorrow as well as the first chapter of my new story. Prompts are open and I'd love to hear you comments!
> 
> xx Rose

It’s been a fucking long day, Buck thinks. He closes the door softly behind himself, exhausted.

The shift was endless, calls with less than an hour in between for most of the twenty-four hours he’d been there. There’d been reprieve in the last two hours and the team had gathered to eat. Well, the rest of the team had. Buck had given up eating with them three days after he’d been reinstated; he couldn’t take the glares or having his food knocked or simply arriving and finding everyone with serves too big to eat and no leftovers for him.

He’d stumbled to the bunks instead and waited out the last few hours of his shift curled into a ball on his bunk. Sleep never came and as soon as the clock ticked over to shift change, he’d stumbled out the doors and home, not bothering to try and talk to his former friends.

He’s not been eating properly since the embolism but after only a few protein bars between jobs for the last twenty-four hours he knew he needed something. Exhausted, he reaches for the fridge door and pulls out some tomatoes. Past will be quick and easy. He grabs a knife out of the block and begins slicing, pausing to put the water on to boil. He spins, going back for the tomatoes when a car backfires in the street.

Startled, he trips, arm going out to catch himself but instead he catches himself on the knife which had been perched on the counter-top. A ragged tear appears on his arm.

“Shit!”

The blood is welling quickly, sliding down his arm at an alarming rate. _Fucking blood thinners._ He stumbles towards the sink, reaches for the tea towel draped there. Hissing, he presses down on the wound. The tea towel is quickly being soaked and as he feels himself beginning to get light headed.

Moving from the sink back to the bench, he reaches for his phone. It’s bleeding too much for him to deal with on his own, and though his friends think he’s stupid he isn’t dumb enough to try and drive himself to the ER in this state.

He types Eddie’s number from memory, but as he goes to hit dial, he sees the time, and pauses.

_You’re exhausting._

It’s going on ten. Eddie will have gotten Christopher to bed and only just begun winding down for the night. He doesn’t need Buck ringing him and winging about his problems.

He considers Bobby for a second, but then he’d be bothering both him and Athena and he hasn’t had the guts to speak to her since he stormed out of dinner and then served her husband.

He strikes out Hen and Chim and Maddie equally quickly. They all have lives. They have people. They don’t need him to bother them. He doesn’t need to be exhausting.

His head is growing heavier still and he watches with fascination at the growing puddle of blood beneath him. He shakes his head, blinks his eyes tightly shut then wide open. His vision clears slightly.

If he calls 911 now, they’d be here in less than ten minutes. No one from the 118 would be on and he’d likely be found alive, if unconscious. But unconscious would mean they’d call his emergency contact. He hadn’t had time to change it from Eddie yet. And he was meant to be on shift tomorrow so they’d have to call Bobby as well.

 _You’re exhausting_.

He feels himself spacing out more. And suddenly, an idea. He could lie down. Go to sleep. Never wake up. The dark thought scares him and he wonders where it came from.

And then he reconsiders.

He could go to sleep, give in to the darkness that is pulling at him. He’s tired. He hasn’t slept properly in moths and _he’s tired_.

Tired of feeling alone. Tired of being left behind. Tired of the crushing sadness that seems to invade every waking moment.

He could go to sleep and _rest._ He could go to sleep and never bother anyone again. It would be a win-win.

A plan formulates quickly in his head. He’s already made the kitchen messy, but it isn’t ruined. He doesn’t need to completely destroy the place. With the strength he has left he stumbles to the bathroom and climbs in the tub, sticking the plug in. He knows from experience a tub of water will stop the stains from the blood- he doesn’t want to ruin the resale value of the place.

His will is taken care of- with a job like his it’s been written for years. Most everything is going to Christopher, a few bits and pieces to the team. It doesn’t matter much; they’ll probably toss it out anyway. They won’t want reminders of a screw up like him.

He turns the taps on as he slumps down, head lolling back. He jolts as the water touches his leg; it’s cold but he doesn’t have the energy to turn the hot tap on. He just needs to stay awake long enough for the tub to fill so he can turn it off.

He heaves in a breath as the water rises. The cold reminds him too much of another time he thought he’d die in water and he tries not to panic. He doesn’t need to be scared. He wants this.

He does.

The water reaches his chest and, lifting an arm that feels heavier than a ladder truck, he turns the tap off.

He feels his eyes slip closed and he shivers. And though he wants to slip away, he’s got a nagging feeling that there’s something else he wants to do. He just needs to remember.

His eyes fly open.

He keeps getting left behind but there’s no way he can let Christopher be left. He needs the kid to know how much he loves him. Needs him to know that he’s the most important thing in the whole damn world. Needs him to not think Buck left him behind.

His phone had been dropped on the ledge near the taps and Buck heaves himself over to it, holds the screen close to his face until it comes into focus. Eddie’s number is still typed in, and Buck pokes a wobbly finger at the button to send a voice message.

Eddie won’t check it for days anyway.

“He ‘die. Jus called ‘cause wan-ed to tell Chris I love’im. Love’im so much. Best thing tha ev’r happen, you an him. Love im so much. Love you.”

He doesn’t mean for that last bit to slip out, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll be dead before Eddie can punch him. He can almost hear Eddies voice, yelling at him. Asking what the hell is wrong with him.

“Bye.”

He hits hang up, lets his arm fall over the side of the tub and the phone slip to the floor.

He’s still cold. He’s still tired. So tired.

His eyes flutter shut.

He doesn’t hear the door open of the thunder of footsteps minutes later. He’s already stopped breathing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, I'm back with Eddie's POV.  
> Thank you so much for the response on the first chapter, it's great motivation.  
> I've never written for a fandom in the height of it's popularity before, so it's nice to be writing in such an active space:)  
> This got a little longer than I had planned, so there will probably be another two chapters. Thanks again everyone, I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think!  
> xx Rose

Eddie smiles as Chris and Denny play, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

The team dinner was spontaneous; they’d been eating in a rush towards the end of the shift, waiting for the alarm to go off when Bobby had asked them all over after the shift for a proper meal. He’d picked Christopher up from his Abeula’s, dodged questions about whether Buck would be there, and driven to Bobby’s.

He watches the boys play and the adults laugh, and can’t help but miss his best friend.

Sure, he’s mad at him. Furious, actually.

The crushing abandonment he’d felt over the lawsuit was too heavy to be lifted when Buck dropped it, wasn’t shifted by his countless apologies.

But, as he’d seen Buck rush out of the firehouse at the end of shift, clothes hanging too loosely and circles under sad eyes, he wondered whether it was time to forgive. He was worried about his friend, who had given up trying to make amends and seemed to resign himself to a life of loneliness.

He’s broken from his train of thought by someone clearing their throat above him. He looks up.

“Hey Cap.”

Bobby doesn’t pretend to smile, simply hands Eddie a beer and sits next to him.

“You looked pretty far away just then.”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate.

“Thinkin’ about Buck?”

Eddie sighs. “Got it in one.”

Bobby leans bag, taking a sip from his own bottle. “I’m worried about him.”

“Same. But I don’t really have a right to be given I’m worried about him because we’ve been treating him like crap for the last month.”

Bobby opens his mouth, goes to reply, when Eddie’s phone cut him off.

He glances how, eyebrow raised when he sees the name. A month ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated in answering. But a month ago there hadn’t been a lawsuit. For the first week after Buck had dropped the suit, he’d called Eddie every night, after spending the shift trying to get anyone to speak to him. But he’d given up and Eddie hadn’t seen Buck’s number on his phone in weeks.

“Speak of the devil.” He hits the accept button, lifting the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

It takes him a second to interpret the garbled voice slurring slowly through words, a second to realise something is wrong.

“Everyone shut up!” The room goes silent as Eddie pulls the phone away from his ear, setting it on speaker. Sensing something is wrong, May gathers her brother and the other boys, ushering them out of the room as the voice on the phone continues. The adults gather closer.

“- tell Chris I love’im. Love’im so much.” The voice is hoarse and tired.

“Buck? Buck what’s going on? Where are you?” He looks to Bobby, who is staring at the phone with growing panic.

On the other end of the phone, Buck takes a stuttering breath. 

“Best thing tha ev’r happen, you an him.”

“Buck you aren’t making sense.”

“Love im so much. Love you.” 

Eddie’s heart rate increases and he looks up again, staring at the worried faces around the room. They all hear the goodbye embedded in the words.

“Buck!” Bobby’s yelling into the phone, looking scared, and it’s enough to make any residual calm leave Eddie’s body. Bobby had been calm when there was a ladder truck on top of Buck and a bomb in front of him. Bobby had stayed calm as he treated Buck for a pulmonary embolism. Bobby panicking made Eddie panic.

“Buck talk to me! Where are you? Are you hurt?”

There’s no answer, just more shallow inhales that are only heard because the room is so still.

“Buck, what the hell is going on?”

Another breath. And then, a single word given to them as if it’s simply been exhaled.

“Bye.”

“Buck!”

There’s a clatter through the speaker and even as Chim and Hen join the yelling Eddie knows it means Buck’s dropped the phone.

“Eddie.” He looks at Bobby’s pale face. “Do you know where he was tonight?”

Eddie shakes his head, suddenly stuck for words.

The Captain he is, Bobby takes a breath and shakes away his panic, looking up at the room.

“This could be nothing. Or it could be something. Either way, it’s high time we forgave Buck. I want everyone in groups- we’ll find him. Maddie, Chim, you guys head to bars. You know the ones he’d be at. Lets just hope he’s drunk. Hen, Karen, you two go to the station, then check the hospital. They should have called me if he showed up there or was admitted but I want you to check. Eddie, you and I will head to his apartment. Athena will stay here with the kids.”

Everyone nods but the Captain’s wife. “There is no way you’re leaving me here. May is capable, she’ll stay here. I’m coming with you.”

There isn’t time to argue and Bobby nods. Everyone’s already started moving; Chim and Maddie are practically at the door and Athena rushes to brief May. Eddie stands, trying not to shake.

He offers his keys to Bobby, knowing his truck is on the street while Bobby’s is in the garage. “You’re going to have to drive, Bobby.”

The older man is cut off as he goes to reply, and Athena takes the keys out of Eddie’s hands. “Neither of you is driving. Now get in the car so we can go slap some sense into our boy.”

* * *

The drive over marks some of the worst minutes of Eddie’s life. He’s running scenarios over in his head. Buck drunk, having fallen down the stairs. Buck, depressed, having resorted to drugs. Buck, not there, injured on some middle-of-nowhere street.

Buck, dying. Alone.

He and Bobby jump out of the truck as Athena parks it, racing up the stairs of the building towards Buck’s loft.

He doesn’t waste time knocking, instead pulling the key from his ring. He hesitates for only a second, but it’s a second of hesitation he wouldn’t have made before- before everything. His hands shake as he turns the key and the hesitation has allowed Athena catch up. The three of them burst through the door.

“Buck!” Eddie scans the entryway.

“Buck!” Athena and Bobby follow, the former running into the kitchen.

“I’ve got blood.”

There’s a sick feeling building in Eddie’s stomach as he rushes over to where Athena has paused. It’s easy to deduce what happened. There’s a discarded cutting board and a knife on the floor near the blood, a pot of water boiling over on the stove which Bobby rushes to turn off.

“Maybe he went to the hospital?” Eddie knows he’s being naïve; knows he’s being hopeful.

Athena’s poking at a tea towel and Eddie’s nausea intensifies as he realises it’s soaked in blood. “And left behind something to stop the blood?”

“Athena.” Bobby’s looking at the floor. Eddie follows his gaze, spotting the drops of blood that are leading towards the bathroom.

“Buck! Buck answer me!” Eddie races towards the door, reaches for the handle.

Maybe Buck was going for the first aid kit. Maybe he hasn’t called out because he’d concentrating on fixing whatever wound he’s managed to accidentally inflict on himself. Because whatever this was, it was an accident. It has to have been.

The illusion is shattered as he opens the door.

Buck’s laid back, looking almost ethereal with an arm draped over the side of the tub, body loose-limbed in the pink water. Eddie can feel himself freezing but is broken out of it as Bobby pushes past him with cry.

He comes back to himself, letting his mask fall into place like he was taught in the army. He reaches over the side of the tub with Bobby, ignoring Athena in the background on the phone to 911. Together, they heave his limp body over the side, laying him down onto the bathroom floor. Eddie tries to ignore that even soaking wet, Buck is easy to lift.

He leans down, placing two fingers that are almost steady against Buck’s throat. For a moment, he can’t feel anything, then-

“I’ve got a pulse!”

Bobby’s looks up. “Gash on his wrist, about five inches long, at least half an inch deep. Putting pressure on it. He isn’t breathing.”

“Starting rescue breaths.”

Eddie leans over, trying to ignore the fact this isn’t the way he’d always though Buck’s lips would feel beneath his. The are cold and chapped. They are still. He gives three breaths, watching Buck’s chest rise and fall with each. He leans up, making eye contact with Bobby, who’s still pressing down on the wound with a now ruined hand towel.

They wait for a second, and Eddie makes sure that the weak, stuttering pulse is still there.

Nothing.

Eddie goes back in with rescue breaths. He comes up from the third and then, as he’s about to go in for another round, a weak inhale. And then another.

He hears Athena over the rushing in his ears as he rocks back on his heels.

“He’s breathing on his own again. Hasn’t come around yet. We still have pressure on the wound.” and then, to him and Bobby, “They’re two minutes out. Keep him stable.”

Eddie keeps his fingers on Buck’s pulse, feeling it weakly thud beneath them. He moves his other hand to Buck’s chest, mercifully rising and falling, however shallowly. He rubs his knuckles across Buck’s sternum roughly.

“C’mon Buck, wake up. Wake up!” He watches Buck’s face carefully, looking for any sign of movement. Nothing. He rubs again, harder this time. And there, a twitch. Buck’s eyelids flutter.

“That’s it, wake up. Open your eyes.” He can feel Bobby watching him but he doesn’t turn, focuses on where Buck’s eyes flick open.

The blue is dull, more grey than anything, and covered in a fog that reminds Eddie that just a second ago, Buck was gone.

“Buck?” Softer, this time. No more frantic panic when they hadn’t known where he was or if he was alive. “Can you hear me? I need you to stay awake for me.”

“Ee’i?”

It’s only because he’s listening for it that Eddie hears his name.

“That’s right Bud, I’m here. Bobby’s here too. We just need you to stay awake for a minute longer.”

Buck blinks slowly, and when his eyes re-open they flick lazily around the room, never quite landing on anything before settling on Eddie’s face.

“Awake?”

“Yeah bud, we need you to stay awake, just for a little while.” He can hear sirens approaching. “Just a little longer.”

“No tha’ ya. Goin’ now.” Buck’s eyes slip back closed before Eddie can process what he’s said. It registers, but before he can respond, before he can plead for Buck to just wake up, several things happen.

Bobby lets out a wounded cry, a sound Eddie had never heard and wished to never hear again. At the same time, people appear in the door, forcing Bobby back and replacing the towel with a pressure bandage. Eddie too is pulled back, grabbed by who he will soon realise is Athena. His fingers are ripped of the junction between Buck’s neck and chin.

The medics work quickly, hooking him up to oxygen and securing the bandages; fluids, a heart rate monitor and other details can wait until they’re on route. They whisk Buck out quickly- the only thing that can save their friend is a hospital.

For a moment, no one moves. Eddie stares around the room. The bath is three quarters full, pink water eerily still. Blood soaked towels lie on the floor- Eddie doesn’t remember Bobby switching them out.

He stares at his own hands, covered in blood. He panics for a moment, breath speeding up as he tries to think when he could have got his friend’s blood on him. His spiral is stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Too small to be Bobby’s.

He looks up.

Athena has a hand on his shoulder, her other one clasped in Bobby’s; the man looks as ill as Eddie feels. Without the adrenaline of trying to keep his friend alive, the nausea has returned. Wrenching free of Athena’s grasp, he turns to the toilet, ripping open the lid and expelling his dinner into it.

Dinner Buck didn’t eat. Dinner he was served while sitting around a table with his friends, laughing. Dinner he ate while Buck tried to kill himself.

He heaves again. There’s no point denying it anymore. Buck had tried to kill himself.

A hand runs down his back as he tries to catch his breath. He thinks of what Buck had said before he passed out again.

_No thank you. Going now._

Polite wasn’t something people immediately associated with Buck, but outside of his ‘Buck 1.0 days’ (which Eddie knew was really just a symptom of his insecurity), Buck was a gentleman.

 _No thank you_.

Like they were offering to save him.

_Going now._

Like they wouldn’t try to stop him.

He takes another breath. Stands up. Allows Athena to steady him, Bobby to hug him. Tries not to think of anything other than his next move.

“We need to get to the hospital. Call the others.”

Together, they make their way to the door and try not to think about the potential Buck has died alone in an ambulance.

Eddie closes the door behind himself.

They were not offering. They stopped him. Buck wasn’t saying goodbye.

Eddie wouldn’t allow it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Please let me know!  
> Next chapter will be tomorrow or the day after, depending on how my uni assignments go tonight!  
> xx Rose


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone,  
> Sorry this is a little later than expected. I may have gotten a week behind in Contract Law and I suddenly have 220 pages of cases to read by next Thursday…. so, a lot of my day is spent slowly slogging through that. I’m back today but I’d say the last chapter will be two days away again rather than one.
> 
> This is shorter than it was going to be, but I really wanted something out for you guys. As such, the story might end up a few chapters longer than expected. Not quite sure what I was thinking when the first estimate was two chapters…
> 
> Thanks again for all the interaction on this story! I’ve ever had such a great response before and it’s a big part of the reason I pushed to get this chapter out rather than going to bed and doing it tomorrow. It means a lot and I can’t wait to hear what you think of this one!

Hen and Karen beat them to the hospital. More accurately, they’d only just left, having finished checking there for Buck and it had only taken a slightly illegal U-turn to get back.

Eddie runs through the ER doors, Bobby and Athena in toe. Hen stands up to greet them. There are hurried embraces exchanged, but before the inevitable questions have time to start Maddi and Chim have come through the door and the routine of hugs begins again.

Minutes later, Chim and Maddie are sitting entangled in each other, Hen and Karen the same. But while Athena has also taken a chair, Eddie and Bobby remain standing. The olden man is a stoic pillar to the younger’s frantic energy.

Eddie is buzzing, filled with panic and worry with no outlet other than to bounce on his heals and wring blood-soaked hands.

“What happened to him?”

It is Maddie who can no longer take the silence.

Eddie opens his mouth, goes to reply. But he can’t break the silence. Can’t say it out-loud because that will make it real.

Athena steps in where neither of the men can speak.

“We found him in the bathtub. He had a gash on his wrist. With the blood thinners-” she broke off, for once in her life unable to remain professionally detached. “He’d nearly bleed out by the time we got to him.”

For a moment, the small group retreats into the silence from which they’d come, but once again Maddie cannot take a lack of information on her brother.

“In the bath? You mean like he’d fallen there trying to treat it?”

“Maddie-” Chim rests a hand her shoulder.

“He keeps his big first aid kit in the bathroom so he must have gone in there trying to clean it up.”

“Maddie!” It is Eddie this time that stops her rambling. “You heard the phone call. We can’t pretend that wasn’t a fucking suicide note!”

His voice had steadily gotten louder and his final words echoed through the ER, turning sympathetic heads their way.

Eddie’s breath speeds up as his own words sink in. Surrounded by his family, his subconscious once more gives him permission to panic.

He barely register being steered towards a chair, head pushed between his knees as blood rushes in his ears. The ambient noise fades as he replays the moment they’d found Buck over in his mind. The deathly pale face, the unnatural stillness in a body that always thrummed with life. A blue tint to his lips.

“-eathe Eddie.” Sound comes back and the world begins to turn in real time again. He takes a shuddering gasp, allows the tears to come as Athena wraps him up.

There will be a moment soon when they call May, tell her an edited version of what has happened and that Carla will be there soon to help her with a houseful of children. There will be cups of shit coffee and pensive staring. But for now, Bobby sinks into a chair and Eddie sinks into Athena’s arms.

The silence is deafening.

* * *

Eddie stays awake as Chim and Maddy drift off. He stays awake when, three hours later with no news, Karen and Hen leave to help Carla. He stays awake as Bobby and Athena take turns anxiously pacing the waiting room. He stays awake until, when the clock passes two fifteen, a nurse comes out and calls for him.

For a moment, he doesn’t move. His captain looks at him, and he knows they are both surprised that the nurse is clearly looking for Buck’s emergency contact and for some reason he hasn’t changed it to Maddie after the debacles of the past year.

The nurse calls again.

This time, Eddie jumps from his seat, paying no mind as the plastic skids across the linoleum and wakes the rest of the party.

“How is he? Can I see him? Is he going to be alright?”

He adopts the nonsensical questioning of a worried relative, the sort of rapid-fire worry that as a first responder he hates.

“Come through Mr Diaz, we’ll talk on the way.”

Eddie looks helplessly over his shoulder, only following the nurse back through the doors when he gets simultaneous nods from the accumulated crowd.

He follows the nurse through empty halls, asking questions but only being told that ‘Mr Buckley’s Doctor will speak with you.’

They get to a set of windowless wooden doors with the intimidating label _Intensive Care Unit_ plastered across the front.

“I’ve let the doctor know that you’re here. She should be out any minute.”

He goes to argue, demand information, but it proves unnecessary because even as she speaks the door opens and a young red headed woman whose beauty is somewhat dimmed by stress lines across her forehead and circles under her eyes steps out.

“Mr Diaz?”

“Eddie, please.” They shake hands. “How’s Buck?”

She sighs. “I’m Casey, and I treated Mr Buckley tonight.”

He stops her. “Buck. He goes by Buck.”

She offers a sympathetic smile he tries not to be angered by.

“Of course. Buck was in severe hypovolemic shock when he was brought in. We’re currently trying to replace the blood he lost, but given the anti-coagulants he was on he lost a lot more than an average person would have from the same injury.” She pauses. “We were told he was found in a full bathtub?”

Eddie nods.

“That very well might have saved his life. He was mildly hypothermic by the time he was brought in, it must have been cold water. The drop in his body temperature resulted in the slowing of his heart and diverted the blood from his extremities which both slowed the bleeding. He would have bled out, otherwise.”

Eddie reaches out, resting a hand on the wall to steady himself.

“So, he’s going to be okay?”

“We’ve managed to stabilise him, but the lack of blood to his brain may have caused complications. He was also in the beginnings of kidney failure when we brought him in. We have him on dialysis to give them a chance to recover and we’re hoping that given some time there will be no lasting damage. It’s really the potential for brain damage that we are worried about. His heart was also under some stress, so we’re monitoring that very carefully.”

She pauses, gives him a chance to regain some semblance of composure.

“We’re hopeful at this point, Mr Diaz. We’ll keep him in the ICU overnight and after that he will need to complete the rest of a 72-hour psychiatric hold.”

Eddie nods, pretending that the thought of his best friend being on a suicide watch isn’t ruining him.

“Can I see him?”

“You can see him briefly, but the ICU has strict visiting hours which have ended. He’ll be moved and evaluated in the morning, and likely you and the rest of your family will be able to stay with him after that. Probably around 9am.”

“I can’t stay?” His voice breaks. Buck hates hospitals. Eddie remembers after the embolism, the barely concealed panic when he’d woken up back in a hospital bed.

“I’m sorry Mr Diaz. I’m breaking the rules letting you in now. You can see him quickly, if you’re ready.”

Eddie nods, follows her as she opens the doors.

He gets his first glimpse of the ICU. It’s less frantic that he’d pictured. The only other time Buck had been there, he hadn’t been allowed visitors. He walks past beds holding vulnerable bodies, tries to reconcile that Buck needs the same level of care as these people that are so sick.

They reach a bed towards the end of the unit, and Eddie sees Buck for the first time since he was whisked away from them at the apartment.

He’s covered in more blankets than the other patients they’d passed, covers drawn up to his neck and stacked on thick. His head and a both arms are all that remain on top of the covers. Eddie pointedly ignores the heavy bandages crisscrossing one of them.

A large machine is hooked to his other arm, drawing blood in and out and Eddie vaguely registers that it’s the thing keeping Buck’s kidney’s working.

He is less able to ignore Buck’s face. Less able to ignore the fact that he looks no better than when Eddie had found him hours ago in his bath.

There is still a faint blue tinge to his lips, and they are the most colourful part of his face. The rest is ashen, his sunken cheeks a reminder of the pain Eddie has ignored for the last month.

Eddie reaches a hesitant hand out, ghosts it across Buck’s icy forehead. He lets his fingers come to a rest in Buck’s hair; it’s longer than he usually wears it, at a length where in normal times Eddie would rib him about it. As it is, he lets his fingers tangle in it and tries to reassure himself that his friend is still there, that their collective screw up has not killed the kindest person Eddie has ever met.

He moves his hand down and cups his Buck’s cheek. He tries not to fall apart.

He is not ready to let go when Casey returns and tells him he has to leave. He doesn’t want to abandon his friend now he’s realised what he’d done. But he can’t argue- he doesn’t have the energy.

He stumbles out and back to the waiting room, trying to remember the puff of air against his hand when it rested on Buck’s cheek and no the icy temperature of his skin.

He realises how long he’d been gone when he’s immediately ambushed by a much livelier group than the one he’d left. He collapses back into a chair, takes a breath.

“They think he’s going to be okay.”

He sees the team deflate and allows them a minute to bask in relief before he relays the information the doctor had shared.

“We can’t see him?”

He isn’t sure who asks, but he shakes his head all the same. Once again it is Bobby who steps up with a plan.

“We’ve done all we can for now. We need to go home now, get some sleep. I’ve called the Chief already, the team’s off rotation for the next week at least. After that we’ll take it from there.”

If Eddie was less exhausted, he’d argue, demand they wait at the hospital until they’re allowed back in. He looks up and sees the sentiment reflected on the faces around him.

Slowly, they stand. They hug each other too tightly for how fragile they feel.

As they head out the door, Bobby says what they’re all thinking.

“We’ll be back in the morning. We aren’t leaving him alone.”

 _Again._ Thinks Eddie. _We aren’t leaving him alone again_.

He knows the others have heard the unspoken words.

They part ways.

* * *

Eddie is on autopilot as he gets back into his truck. Bobby and Athena say nothing from the back seat, only offering thanks when they arrive back at their house.

He thanks Carla with a promise to talk to her in the morning, cradles a sleeping Christopher as he carries him back to the car.

When they arrive home, he doesn’t wake his son. He gets him into pyjamas, soothes him when he stirs through the motions.

He bypasses Chris’s room and goes onto his own, settling him under the covers of the double bed.

He allows himself a moment of collapse in the bathroom, frantically scrubbing dried blood off his hands long past when he logically knows it’s gone. He throws his clothes in a pile on the floor, unable to face more of Buck’s blood.

Finally, he curls up next to Christopher, tucking his tiny head under his chin.

He holds onto his son and despite the chaos in his head, he drifts off. He holds onto what is warm. Here. Alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Let me know.
> 
> Also, to clear some confusion- I am aware Buck goes to leave a voicemail and Eddie receives a call. The reason for the confusion will become clear in later chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s pretend this isn’t out a week later than promised...please?
> 
> I’ve been chipping away at this chapter between assignments, but I’ve been so exhausted by the time I’ve finished my ‘real work’ for the day I’ve basically collapsed in a heap. I’d rather have to take a little while than have this be nonsensical crap.
> 
> The good news is I don’t have another assignment due until the 11th, so I have a little time to play with before I resume having my ass kicked by contract law…
> 
> Thank you again for your support and interaction with this story. As always, it means a lot and is the reason I don’t abandon works mid-way through.

There is a moment, blissful and brief, where Eddie wakes up and is a man lying in bed with his son.

He tightens his arm around Christopher, lets his eyes flutter open and wonder why he feels so bone tired when the light outside indicates he’s slept much later than his hard-wired 5:30 start.

He can’t pinpoint the moment everything comes back, just knows that one minute he’s in bed with his son and the next he’s in bed with his son starkly aware of why he needs the comfort of the small body in his. He gently rolls Chris over and extracts his arms before creeping out of the room, snagging his phone off the side table as he presses the door closed.

8:17.

He’s slept until 8:17.

Immediately he’s running through a to-do list.

Get Carla over to babysit Chris. Get dressed, make coffee, have a shower. Get somewhat presentable and marginally more awake.

He’s shot off a message to Carla and has the coffee maker heating up when Chris wanders into the room. He’s neglected his crutches and is stumbling on uncoordinated limbs, resting a curled hand on the wall as he goes.

“Daddy?” his free hand comes up to knuckle at his eyes, the soft, sleepy smile he gives enough to lift some of the weight off Eddie's chest.

“Morning buddy. You sleep okay?”

He settles Chris on his hip and enjoys the softness of bed ruffled curls on his neck as the boy rests his head on his father’s shoulder.

“Mmm. Are we seeing Bucky today? Did you find him? May said he got lost.”

Thank God for that girl.

“We found him, Kiddo. He might be a bit tired though, so Carla is going to come stay with you while I see Buck. And, when he’s awake and feeling a bit better you can see him, okay?”

He can see the kid getting upset, and readjusts him in his hold, cradling the back of his head.

“I know you want to see him, but Buck needs all the sleep he can get for a little while. But I promise as soon as he’s ready you can come see him and give him a big hug.”

He feels the nod against his shoulder and is grateful that the little boy isn’t in the mood to be difficult.

He sets Chris down.

“Alright bud. I have to go get ready now. Carla will be here in a minute but yell if you need something.”

“Okay.”

Eddie can see the hesitance on his face. “Bud?”

“Do you think-” he breaks off, eyes on the floor as they always are when he wants to say something he thinks may upset his father.

He cups a hand to Chris’ cheek until their eyes meet once more. This time, when the boy’s gaze wanders it's purely ocular muscles disobeying their owner.

“Do you think Buck would like if I made him a card? So that way he knows I’m thinking of him when I’m not there?”

He pulls Chris close once again, allows himself another moment of comfort. “I think he’d love that bud.”

He pulls away and ruffles Chris’ hair, retreating before the tears in his eyes have a chance to fall.

He isn’t sure how he ended up with such a good kid. Not an obedient one, or eve a quiet one. But how does a kid with him as a parent have that much _goodness_ inside him.

He showers and dresses, leaves the house with a ‘thanks’ to Carla and another hug to Chris.

He tries to ignore the fact Chris is more aware of Buck’s emotional needs than any of his adult ‘friends’.

* * *

Eddie’s not surprised to see he’s been beaten to the hospital.

At ten past nine he’s the fourth to arrive- Chim and Maddie clearly had been there for a while and Bobby walked in ahead of Eddie, a tray of coffee’s indicating that though he’d arrived nearly with Eddie he’d left much earlier.

There are no words exchanged between the group; Eddie nods his hello and thank you, taking the coffee and scampering off the nurses’ station to see if they can go see Buck.

“Mr Buckley has been moved to the Nephrology. I’ve paged a nurse to take you through.”

The answer surprises Eddie: he’d expected a general unit, maybe the psych unit but nephrology throws him. He hadn’t realised the kidney damage was that bad and he finds himself praying to a god he isn’t sure exists that it’s precautionary.

He relays the information to the waiting group, promising to bring them through as soon as he can and then hurrying to follow the Doctor calling his name.

“Good Morning Mr Diaz. I’m Doctor Morgan. I overtook Mr Buckley’s care this morning when he was transferred to nephrology.”

The new doctor has none of Casey’s warmth; despite a jovial pink tie and grinning novelty pins on his lapels, the grey eyes are cold. He’s sympathetic but impersonal.

"Mr Buckley-”

“Buck.” He doesn’t mean to interrupt, knows Pepa would clip him over the ears if she was here, but he can’t stand having people refer to Buck with the distance, impersonal terms that had driven him to the hospital in the first place.

For his rudeness the Doctor just smiles, likely used to harsh tones and impatient family members. It makes Eddie feel like even more of an asshole. He can’t help thinking he is undeserving of his tolerance. He doubts he would be this kind is he knew Eddie was the once that had put Buck here.

“Of course. Buck woke about three hours ago. His neural obs have been good, there doesn’t seem to be any other organ damage and he was feeling alright, considering the blood loss. His core temperature is rising, though again, due to the blood loss, he’s feeling cold and tired. His kidney function is slowly improving but it’s not great so we’re going to keep him here for the next twenty-four hours of his stay just to keep on top of it. It’s just a precaution, really, he should be off dialysis by day’s end.”

Eddie wants to feel relief, but until he hears the most important information his shoulders stay tense and his jaw remains locked.

“They said he was having a psych eval this morning?”

He smiles back at him and Eddie tries to ignore the pity.

“Yep. They’ve cleared him. They will be recommending a course of treatment and he will need to remain under observation while he’s here, but it won’t be too strict. There won’t need to be someone else in the room while you’re there.”

He isn’t sure if he’s meant to feel better.

“So, it wasn’t a suicide attempt? What treatment are they recommending?”

“I’m sorry Mr Diaz. As Buck’s emergency contact I’ve given you as much information as I can but given Mr Buckley is conscious, responsive and competent, the rest is confidential.”

Eddie nods, though he hates it. The truth is he doesn’t feel entitled to the information he’s received even though he craves more.

They’ve reached the nephrology unit.

“I’m needed on a consult. Mr Buckley is on ward C. I’ll be back to speak with him around noon for handover. 4 visitors at a time at most, and please be respectful of the other patients on the ward.” He checks his watch again. “The nurses will provide any information you need.”

Eddie manages a murmur of gratitude before following the signs to ward c.

“Evan Buckley?” he asks at the station. The nurse there is clearly exhausted, sat with a cup of tea that has formed a skin over the top and a pen tucked in her hair. She looks up from where she’d been typing and despite what has obviously been a long shift, she manages a smile.

“Oh, I’m so glad he has someone here for him. Lovely young man, so polite. Hasn’t asked for a thing unlike all the oldies that seem to think I’m running a hotel.” She smiles again. “He’s in the third bed on the right, just near the window. He was asleep last time I went in.”

“Thanks.” He shoots a smile of his own before heading through the doors.

The curtain around Buck’s bed is drawn. Out of the ICU he is awarded the privacy of a thin cotton sheet.

“Buck?” he’s quiet, doesn’t want to awaken his friend is he’s sleeping or disturb anyone else. But on the off chance he’s awake Eddie’s lost the privilege to simply walk in.

When there’s no answer he pulls the curtain gently aside anyway, slipping through.

Buck’s asleep. There’s a little relief that he’s not simply ignoring Eddie, but the good feelings end there. Buck doesn’t look any better than he had the night before. There’re more blankets and still goosebumps where his arms are laid atop the covers.

He looks sad even in sleep.

It’s then Eddie notices that the chair beside the bed is occupied; a older man, at least late seventies who had clearly been reading. he has a grandfatherly look, though the kindness is missing from his gaze. He watches Eddie pensively.

“Ah, hi.” He tries not to make it a question. “I’m just here to sit with Buck.”

The man’s lip twitch in what might be a smile. “I’m Joseph. I’ll leave while someone is with him but please make sure you call a nurse before leaving him alone.”

Joseph gives Eddie no time to respond before he’s gone, slipping through the curtain and back onto the ward.

Eddie lets out a breath and tries not to think about why he had been there.

He traces his index finger along the covers on Buck’s bad leg, wanting to stroke his face but scared to wake him. He settles in the chair beside the bed and watches Buck’s chest rise and fall for a few seconds before remembering the waiting group.

He sends Bobby a quick text with directions to the ward, warning him someone will have to wait outside and that they need to be quiet when they arrive.

He is given a few minutes alone before the curtains part again.

Maddie and Bobby slip through, both stopping almost as soon as they lay eyes on Buck.

It’s then he realises that he’s the only one for whom Buck’s appearance isn’t so much of a shock. After seeing him in the ICU, Eddie had had a frame of reference. But Bobby had last seen his pseudo-son covered in blood and soaking wet. Maddie had likely last seen him awake and talking and _happy_.

He watches as their eyes flick to the dialysis machine in tandem, then to the heavily bandaged arm and finally to Buck’s pale face.

Eddie stands and faces Maddie.

“He’s going to be okay.”

The tears that he’d seen building in her eyes that morning began to fall and despite being uncomfortable, he pulled her into a hug. He’d already failed when one Buckley need him.

She cries against him and though the sobs are muffled in his shoulder it seems they are too loud in the crowded space because suddenly, Eddie can hear shuffling on the bed behind him.

The pair jump apart and they crowd the bed, Bobby leaning eagerly with them.

Buck’s eyes are fluttering weakly- Eddie can see the pupils rolling beneath nearly translucent eyelids.

“Evan? Are you waking up sweetheart?” Maddie stands on the side opposite Eddie, running a hand down Buck’s face to try and calm the growing agitation.

When Buck finally opens his eyes, Eddie is glad they are not the terrifying, glassy grey they were the night before.

Eddie expects questions, maybe anger. He doesn’t expect Buck’s eyes to flick to each of them with recognition and then flutter back closed.

“You can go now.”

The voice is stronger than last night, but the apathy is the same and Eddie has half a mind to storm out and demand the idiot who ‘evaluated’ Buck as ‘okay’ to come back because clearly Buck is not okay. He uses the anger as a shield to the paralysing fear that whispers that Buck might still want to kill himself.

“We aren’t going anywhere Buck.”

His voice is harsh, and he knows he’ll regret it later but right now he needs Buck to be scared of his anger, so he doesn’t do anything stupid.

Buck’s eyes flick back open but rather than fear there is desperation.

“Please, I’m fine. They cleared me and they’ll fax you the papers for work and I’ll be back in a week. I’m fine. You’ve fulfilled whatever moral obligation you feel and I’ll see you again when I’m health enough you won’t feel like assholes for ignoring me. Please, leave.”

“Buck-” Eddie isn’t sure that Bobby knows he’s crying. “Buck we care, we want to be here.”

Buck rolls his head weakly across the pillow, effectively shrugging Maddie’s hand off his cheek.

“You need to leave. I’m tired and I don’t want you here.”

“Buck-” Maddie tries this time; she isn’t hiding her tears.

“No. Leave.” He’s moving his hand, reaching for the bed controls and pushing the call button before anyone can stop him.

“We aren’t leaving Buck.”

“You will.” Buck says. There is no doubt in his voice, and he closes his eyes. Eddie doesn’t know if he goes back to sleep, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Eddie looks helplessly between Maddie and Bobby, but before they can say anything else, a nurse bustles in. She looks more awake than the girl from the desk. Shift change has probably happened in the few minutes Eddie’s been there.

“Sorry for the wait Mr Buckley! But it looks like you’re in good hands here. What can I do for you?”

It seems he hadn’t gone back to sleep because his eyes snap back open. There is still no anger and that kills Eddie even though he doesn’t know why.

“I want these people to leave, please. Can you get Joseph back?”

Her smile drops, but the artificial cheer s replaced with genuine concern.

“Are you sure honey? It can be nice having people around that care.”

“Please get Joseph. And-” he pauses, apparently catching his breathe. Another shiver racks his frame. “And if it’s not too much trouble could I please have another blanket?”

The nurse’s eyes sharpen as she looks around the group at Buck’s bedside. Like them, she hasn’t missed the fact Buck hadn’t addressed the ‘people that care’ statement. The cold in her eyes is quickly gone, and she smiles once more as she looks at Buck.

“Of course, honey. I’ll grab that for you. They’ll have to stay a minute while I page Joseph, but then they’ll be asked to leave.”

“Thank you.”

She nods, gives them another glare when Buck’s eyes close again.

* * *

It takes Joseph a little over ten minutes to get back, and Buck keeps his eyes shut the whole time.

No one dares speak; the only noise comes from the bed frame when it rattles every time Buck gives a particularly violent shiver.

Joseph arrives equipped with his book and a thick blanket. He is warmer with Buck than he had been with Eddie, murmuring comfortingly as he tucks the blanket around him. He looks at the group assembled awkwardly as he settles in the chair.

“You can leave now.”

Eddie walks over to Buck, leans down next to him. He dares not touch, knows that is not his privilege anymore. But he can still talk to him.

“I’ll be back, Buck. Tomorrow. And the next day, and the next.”

Maybe his friend has already fallen back to sleep under his new blanket. But maybe he hears.

Eddie walks out of the ward. He feels even worse than when he lay in the hospital in Afghanistan, worse than when he’d thought he’s lost Chris to a tsunami. But he is determined not to break another promise to his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The confrontation has begun. More action next chapter, but thank you for your patience as I got us here.
> 
> Anywho, please let me know what you thought! I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep for the next chapter, but I’d say a week at most- I’ll try to get more out earlier though.
> 
> This was a two shot when I conceptualised it. I swear to you it was. But now every time I go to finish it, it feels inauthentic. The recovery process to get to the stage I want to finish at would take so much longer than a few thousand words. So, good news- ya’ll get more. Bad news- the longer my stories the more unreliable the updates. But, I have vowed to never abandon a story so it will be finished… it just may take a while when I’m busy with uni.
> 
> On a completely unrelated note- so Microsoft Word now highlights words that ‘may be offensive to your reader’. I’m sorry, when did I ask?
> 
> So, in summary:
> 
> -Thanks again!
> 
> -This is an undefined length
> 
> -MS Word has gone crazy
> 
> -Please review
> 
> XX Rose


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this? A chapter in less than a week? It’s a miracle! An important note:
> 
> -As an astute reviewer rightly pointed out, where Buck asked that Eddie and co were removed from his room, hospital policy would require they leave immediately. However, Buck is still on a suicide watch and therefore cannot be left alone. I’m sure this would mean in reality Joseph would never have left; however, I took some creative liberties. This is a somewhat medically/factually accurate story but I have and will make some adjustments to reality to suit my own purposes. But please, always point out things you see that you think aren’t quite right and don’t have a reason it’s like that (read: if I can’t bullshit my way out of it) I’ll go back and change it.
> 
> Thank you again for all the kind reviews. I love hearing what you think, it really does make my day.
> 
> Ramble over, go forth and read!

When Buck wakes up some time later, Joseph is gone and a younger woman is in his place. She glances up briefly as he shifts on the bed, but quickly looks back at her phone. Paired with the headphones she’s wearing it’s a clear indication she had no intention of talking.

She is a cold contrast to Joseph who had been quiet but warm.

He’d managed to convince the shrink that morning that while he’d been in a dark place, his condition really was the result of an unfortunate slip and blood thinners preventing him getting to his phone to call for help. The confession of his possible depression and promise to see a therapist had left him labelled as troubled but not dangerous, and free to be released as soon as the mandatory seventy-two hours were up, at least from a psychiatric point of view.

While he was deemed not a threat to himself, hospital policy still mandated he not be left alone for the duration of his stay. It had alarmed him at first- he’d fallen asleep as the psych finished up his consult and woken with a strange man by his bed.

He’d introduced himself with a gravelly Brooklyn drawl- 68, a few grandkids on the east cost and happy to spend his days a quiet companion. He’d respected Buck’s need for silence and not seemed upset when he couldn’t keep his eyes opened, merely pulled the blanket back up from where it was had slipped and made sure it was tucked in as he drifted back off.

This new woman has none of the care of her predecessor. Buck glances at the monitor on top of the dialysis machine, glad it has a clock on it given his phone was probably somewhere in his bathroom.

His bathroom.

He was still foggy on exactly how he’d gone from his bathtub to the hospital.

He’d woken early in the ICU, unsure of where he was or why he’d woken up. A nurse had explained he’d been brought in by Bobby, Athena and Eddie and the extent of his injury.

He'd waited for her to leave before he started to cry.

Growing up, he’d perfected the art of crying silently while his parents argued in the room next to his and the skill continued to serve him well. He cried because he was alone in a hospital and he was freezing and exhausted. He cried because if his friends had hated him before they must abhor him now. He cried because he’d survived.

He wasn’t sure how anyone had found him in time. He’d assumed Eddie, being at yet another gathering he wasn’t welcome at, would ignore the audio message he’d sent, if not for weeks at least until he’d gone home. But he must have listened to it almost immediately or he’d never have reached him in time, even with the hypothermia he’d accidentally induced.

But however it had happened, he’d woken up.

He tried not to think about the night before and what he’d almost done.

He knew that he should have died- it would have saved everyone a lot of time and effort, not to mention hospital resources. He was angry he’d failed, partly because it meant he was still here and partly because he knew he wouldn’t have the guts to try again.

Even if he did, that’s what the woman in the chair beside the bed was for.

He’s only been up for a few minutes, but he’s already tired again. It's nearing four pm- he’d slept most of the day away. Just as he’s settling back into the bed, trying to get warm under the pile of blankets, the woman speaks up.

“There’s some guy out there that wanted to see you when you woke up.”

Startled by the sharp tone and lack of introduction, Buck can’t reply for a second and she takes the silence as an opportunity to speak again.

“Look, I’ve been told you can’t have visitors unless I check with you first, so do you want this guy in or not?”

“Ah, do you know who it is?”

“I’m not your receptionist, didn’t take a name and number. It was some Latino guy, he’s been here since lunchtime. Do you want to see him or not?”

It must be Eddie.

“No thanks.”

He tries not to take note when she rolls her eyes and looks back down, instead closing his eyes again.

As he falls asleep, he thinks of Eddie.

Eddie, who has ignored him since the lawsuit.

Eddie, who wouldn’t let him see Chris when he begged and cried.

Eddie, who both saved him and cursed him.

Eddie, who he’s in love with him.

* * *

Eddie had returned home briefly for lunch with Christopher, before heading back to the hospital and planting himself on the chair at the nurse’s station.

He’d been told he couldn’t see Buck unless given permission, but he’d wait as long as it took. Or, that was the plan, until eight o’clock ticked over and he was kicked out.

He drove home, defeated

* * *

When Buck wakes next, it is to a Doctor calling his name. Morgan, he thinks he’d introduced himself as.

He blinks groggily, noticing with relief that at least with the doctor here the female watcher had gone.

“How are you feeling this evening?”

With no one around to convince he’s ‘fine’, he opts for apathetic honesty. “Tired, still cold. Bit of a headache.”

Morgan smiles sadly. “To be expected, mostly. Now, your kidney function has improved dramatically today so we’re going to take you off dialysis, alright?”

He nods.

Morgan begins tying off the tubes extending from his arm, clipping the cord and placing it into the disposal unit. “We don’t expect you to have any trouble, but we’ll be monitoring your urine output overnight to make sure there’s no issues.”

Buck feels his face heat at the reminder of the catheter and Morgan smiles reassuringly.

“If all goes well, we’ll have the catheter out in the morning.”

He winces as a needle is removed from his arm, leaving only the IV fluids.

“Alright, I’m done for the night, but the on-call doctor will be available if you need anything, alright?

He nods, already ready to go back to sleep. He hopes the exhaustion wears off at some point, along with the godforsaken cold that has settled in his bones and refused to shift.

“I’ll call Kaitlin back to sit with you overnight.”

 _Kaitlin_. He assumes that’s the name of the grouchy babysitter he’s been saddled with.

“Before I leave Mr Buckley, I thought you should know that your friend has been sitting outside those doors all day. I know the psychiatrist has advised you aren’t a risk to yourself in the future, but I also know you seem to have a very worried family out there who want to help you get better.”

Buck frowns, closes his eyes and burrows under the blankets.

He hears Morgan sigh and the curtains around the bed open.

The chair next to the bed scrapes against the ground as someone settles back in.

“Goodnight, Mr Buckley. Think about what I said.”

* * *

The drive home, Eddie tries to ignore the feeling of rejection that had cemented itself in his heart the second time Buck refused to see him.

Doctor Morgan had shaken his head sadly as he’d walked out for the night, after assuring Eddie on the way past he’d try and get Buck to allow him in.

The cars lining his street don’t surprise him as he pulls into the driveway; Carla had warned him that the team had started showing up as he left the hospital for the night.

He bypasses them waiting in the kitchen, going straight to Christopher’s room to send him off to sleep.

The little boy had his head in a book as he walks in, but it’s quickly set aside when he sees who’s at his door.

“Hey mijo.”

“Did you get to see Bucky?”

He sighs as he sits on his son’s bed. He’d explained at lunchtime that he couldn’t see Buck yet, but that he was going back to try again. He didn’t mention that the reason he couldn’t see Buck was because Buck hated him. The lie by omission is eating him up and he knows he needs to come clean.

“No buddy, I didn’t.”

“Oh.”

Eddie sighs, preparing to deliver the blow. “Bud, I need to tell you something and it might make you sad or mad at me, but that’s okay and I’m not going to be upset however you feel, alright?”

Christopher looks worried now. “I’d never be mad at you Daddy.”

Eddie lets his head drop. “You might be now Chris, and that’s alright.”

He looks back into his son’s eyes, knowing this cannot be a moment of cowardice.

“Christopher, you know how you couldn’t see Buck for a little while?” he waits while the boy nods. “Well, when we were allowed to see him again, I was still mad at Buck and so were the rest of the team.”

“But you forgave him, right? Buck would have said sorry if you were mad and you always tell me I should forgive people when they say sorry.”

“Yeah, he did say sorry. But I did the wrong thing and stayed mad. And Buck-”

Fuck, he’s committed to explaining suicide, at least vaguely, to his eight-year-old.

“Buck got really sad and really lonely.”

“But why didn’t you cheer him up? Buck always makes me feel better when I'm sad.”

“He does, doesn’t he. That’s because he is a really good friend. And I wasn’t a good friend. So, Buck decided he wanted to go somewhere where he could find some new friends.

“He didn’t want to be my friend anymore?”

“No bud, it wasn’t you. He loves you and he wasn't mad at you. But he had to leave because he was too sad here when his friends were being mean to him. But while he was leaving, he got hurt.”

“He was leaving because you were mean to him?”

The tears in his son’s eyes are killing him and he can feel his own burning behind his eyes. He lifts a hand up to cup Christopher’s cheek.

“Yeah bud, he was.”

“He doesn’t want to see you anymore because you were mean to him.” The way Christopher pulls away from his hand hurts as much as the words and all he can do is nod.

“I am mad at you.”

It’s a whispered confession and it is what gets the tears to finally fall.

“I know you are. And that’s okay. I love you no matter what and I’ll be here for you even when you're mad.”

Christopher doesn’t say anything, just lies down on his bed. The book is long set aside and he curls his arm around the nearest teddy.

He knows the rejection is only a fraction of what Buck has been dealing with. He gently rests his hand on Chris’s back.

“I love you Christopher.”

He heads to the door as his son stays silent. Just as he’s pulling it shut, he hears a voice from within.

“Dad?”

He pauses. “Yeah Chris?”

“If Buck’s mad at you, maybe he’ll want to see me? ‘Cause he isn’t mad at me, is he?”

“He might bud, we’ll try in the morning okay?”

“Okay.”

Eddie pulls the door closed and heads back towards the kitchen. He has another difficult conversation ahead.

* * *

The rest of the team are waiting around the table, coffee cups varying from half drunk to empty. Carla presides over the gathering, lent against the counter as she surveys the group.

Eddie gratefully accepts the cup she hands him, trying not to focus on the glare she fixes him with.

She is the first to break the tense silence.

“One of you needs to explain why I have been wrangled to take care of that little angle while ya’ll run around with Buck and a hospital. Now, I’m not saying I mind, because I don’t, but I do want to know what the hell is going on.”

Bobby recites the events from the phone-call onwards in stuttering bursts; the tone is a far cry from the usually commanding captain.

“I know what happened that night.” Athena jumps in at the close of the recount. “What I want to know is why. I know that boy hasn’t been to any of our gatherings in the last few months since the lawsuit but I was under the impression that he’s been busy. But busy or not I thought he knew he could come for us for anything. I’m getting the feeling from the guilt in this room there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

No one wants to own up to what they’ve done. To the chores, the ignoring, the harassment. To the ridicule and isolation.

“He hasn’t been talking to me.” Maddie’s quiet admission has everyone swiveling to look at her. “I thought he was busy, being back at work. And I was so caught up in my own stuff I didn’t think to check when he was always unavailable or he didn’t answer my calls.”

“It’s our fault.” Hen is the only one brave enough to fill in those outside the station to what has been happening within it.

“That boy,” Athena spits as she finishes, “Has _nothing_ outside this family. _We_ are his family. Now I will be the first to admit I’ve done a pretty ordinary job with including him in this family recently but how could you have done this? He has no self-esteem, no one else and you validated every feeling of worthlessness he ever had.”

There are no words in response. There’s no arguing. She’s right. And Eddie isn’t sure they’re going to be able to fix their mistake.

With nothing left to say, people slowly trickle out with quiet promises to see each other at the hospital in the morning. They may not be able to fix what they’ve done, but they’re going to try.

* * *

Buck blinks himself awake, glad to see that it’s morning. He’d been woken periodically during the night as nurses checked on him, during one particularly memorable moment the nurse checking his output had accidentally tugged on the catheter and that had taken him from the half asleep to _fucking hell I’m awake now!_ in less than a second. Despite the discomfort, he’d been glad when the tube was removed during the early-morning check.

He’s even more glad to see Joseph back by his side, book in hand.

The old man smiles as he notices Buck’s eyes on him and for the first time in months Buck feels like he isn’t completely alone.

“Morning.” His voice is still a little rough, an after effect of having bone-dry oxygen pumped through his throat twenty four hours ago, but he’s pleased he sounds marginally better than the day before, even if he doesn’t real feel it.

“Your friend dropped this over for you.”

Joseph sets the book down and heaves a bursting backpack onto the bed.

“Thanks.” He unzips it slowly with his good arm, purposefully ignoring the bandaged one where it is tucked, throbbing under the blanket. He’s glad to see his phone, there and full of charge, but he ignores the messages that light up with the screen. He’s more grateful still for the sweats, socks and hoodie he pulls out, indifferent to the toiletries he can’t yet get up to use.

He immediately pulls the piles of blankets back to pulls the sweats on, but the sudden movement leaves him dizzy and listing to the side.

A warm hand catches his shoulder, righting him. “You need a hand son?”

The familiar nickname should annoy him, but it doesn’t. For once, he lacks shame, and nods. “Please.”

Joseph stands, but instead of the pants he grabs the thick socks, separating the pair.

“I always put my socks on first, that way the pants will cover the tops and no cold air can get in.

He feels a small smile cross his face as Joseph puts both socks up. He can’t stay sitting upright the second sock is put in place, having to lean back against the semi-reclined bedhead, his posture lacking the strength to hold him any longer.

He hadn’t lost that much blood under the ladder truck, or even after the embolism, and he’s quickly deciding he never wants to again- the exhaustion is just as bad as the cold.

He tries to lift his hips as Joseph slides the sweats up but manages little more than a useless flop.

When Joseph chuckles, it doesn’t feel like derision. Buck still doesn’t feel worthy of the help.

“Son you just stay there. This isn’t anything I haven’t done for my children or grandchildren.”

The words make him feel better.

He’s exponentially warmer as the pants are settled around his hips, warmer again when Joseph gently tucks the blankets back around him.

“The guy that dropped this in, he said you had a visitor.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

“No, not him. He had a little boy with him.”

Joy, foreign and warm, ignites in his belly. “Christopher?”

“Wow, what a smile! That thing changes your whole face.”

The grin widens. “Can you get him for me? Is he allowed in by himself?”

“I’ve paged the nurse’s station. He’ll be in in a second.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright ya’ll, I’ve got a confession. Joseph was meant to be a one-off appearance. But then everyone liked him so I brought him back…and now I may be attached. I’m not sorry. So you’ll probably be seeing some more of him. Also, to those asking, no, he isn’t meant to be an AU Red, simply a nice old man:)
> 
> So I guess this is definitely not a two shot anymore… she’s gonna be a big one!
> 
> I really hope you like this- as always, please let me know what you think, what you liked and what you hated. See you at some stage in the next week!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this has taken so long! Got a smack of life in the face these last few weeks; I never meant to have it be this long between chapters but I hopefully will have another chapter out in a day or two to make up for what’s been missing. Thanks so much for the patience, I won’t keep you here too long, so go! Shoo! Read on!

Christopher is sunshine.

Buck can hear him before he sees him, the gentle clicking of the crutches on linoleum loud in an otherwise quiet ward.

“Bucky!” The cry is louder still as Chris appears between the curtains and Buck is _happy_.

“Hey Superman!” He raises the bedhead a little more as Christopher clambers on, dropping his crutches without a care in the world.

Joseph picks them up and sets them against the wall but Buck pays him no mind, focusing on the little boy who has launched himself onto the bed and burrowed into his side.

He holds him tight with his good arm, resting his cheek in soft hair and taking what feels like his first breath in months.

It takes him a moment to realise Christopher is shaking, a moment longer to realise it’s because he’s crying.

“Hey, hey, bud. What’s wrong?”

He tries to get a hand on Chris’s chin to pull his gaze but the head stays firmly nuzzled in the crook of his neck.

“I don’t want you to leave again. Please don’t get leave again.”

Buck’s not sure how he ever contemplated leaving the first time when it would have meant leaving this little boy.

“Oh bud, I won’t. I’m so sorry.”

Chris looks up, glasses fogged from his tears and heavy breathing.

“You promise?”

He nods. “I promise bud.”

“Pinky promise?”

He smiles, takes the offered finger in his own, thinking of all the times he and Maddie had sealed a deal this way.

“I pinky promise Christopher. I would miss you too much. I can’t leave you.”

He feels Chris relax against him, only realising with the release of tension that there had been any in the first place.

“I missed you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, lots and lots. I’ve got so much to tell you. We went to the aquarium wit my class. And Josh was scared because of the water because he saw the tsunami on the TV but I told him that I’d _been_ in the tsunami and my Buck had saved me so I wasn’t afraid anymore.”

Christopher continues on, jumping from the aquarium to the book he’s reading and back to the aquarium.

Buck lets him. Listens. Looks to Joseph, who is smiling. He smiles too.

* * *

Christopher falls asleep a few hours later. He’d spent the morning spewing an endless stream of chatter. He’d shared the crackers from his backpack with Buck and Joseph, and regaled the older man with tales of ‘Buck the Superhero-Firefighter-Chef-Piggyback Giver-Extraordinaire’. Buck had, in turn, read the next chapter of Christopher’s latest book and traded half his egg and lettuce sandwich for half Chris’s PB&J.

They’d resumed reading after lunch, and it didn’t take more than a few pages before he’d sacked out against Buck’s chest. Buck himself wasn’t doing much better. He’d tried not to show how he’d dozed through Chris’s stories, how the simple act of holding the book made his arm tire.

He’d nearly followed the little boy into sleep when Joseph broke the silence with a murmur.

“You love that boy”.

“I do.”

“How come you haven’t seen him in so long?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

So, Buck talks. With one hand resting on Chris’s back as it gently rises and falls, and his eyelids drooping as the sounds of his own monotone lulls him to sleep, he talks. He starts with his parents and their lack of love. He speaks of Maddie leaving- both times, and moves onto Abby, then Ali. Then the truck and the embolism and the tsunami and _the lawsuit_ and the grocery store and the loneliness and the abandonment and by the time he’s done his eyes leak tears of exhaustion and his heart has both lifted and been weighed down.

“I’m just exhausted. I’m _exhausting_.”

Joseph’s not said a word throughout his tirade, but his eyes sadden with the final admission and he speaks up.

“I think you’re sad and hurt- and I think after everything you _deserve_ to be sad and hurt. And, I think you need to give yourself break.”

Buck nods, not sure he believes him. His eyes droop further. On his chest, Christopher snuffles, his little fist clenching and un-clenching around Buck’s collar. Buck wants to hold onto him forever, wants to go to sleep with the little man in his arms.

He forces his eyes back open. “Can you call Eddie to get him? If he sleeps too long, he’ll be up all night and he doesn’t need to spend the rest of the day in a hospital.”

Joseph smiles that same sad smile from before and rise from his seat.

“Yeah, be right back.”

* * *

Eddie had spent the hours Christopher had visited Buck alternating between pacing the corridor and sipping stale, cold coffee.

He’s surprised when, after lunchtime, the man who’d been watching Buck the day before walked out into the corridor. Joseph, he thinks he’d introduced himself as. 

“Your boy fell asleep around an hour ago. Buck let him sleep but he said you’d want to get him up so he slept tonight.”

Still thinking of others.

“I can come in and get him?”

Joseph nods, but before Eddie can go through the door, the old man’s hand catches his shoulder.

“You want some advice?”

Eddie doesn’t have a chance to answer before Joseph continues.

“Actually, I don’t really care, I’m going to tell you anyway because that boy in there is too good to have an idiot like you for a friend. But he obviously cares for you, and that little boy. And the rest of that team of yours that’s been on rotation waiting around here. And the only reason that boy is hurting so much is that he loves you all so deeply that it is killing him. So, you don’t leave him. Even when he won’t see you, even when he yells at you. You be there for him and show you that you love him even though you screwed up. And don’t give me that face, I know you screwed up. Musta’ been a pretty big screw up to, to get a boy like that to be mad. You be there for him, and you never leave him again. Can you do that?”

Eddie nods, mouth dry.

“Are you sure? Because if you leave him again you will do what he failed at. You _will_ kill him.”

Eddie nods again, surer this time.

The grip on his shoulder loosens, but doesn’t let go.

“One last thing, Eddie. Do you love him as much as he loves you?”

He feels as if he’s been physically hit. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. All you have to do is listen to him speak for all of five minutes to know how much he loves you, and that boy of yours. Although, after spending the day with him myself he doesn’t come across as a hard kid to love.”

Eddie wipes suddenly damp eyes. “He’s not.”

“Buck doesn’t, either.”

The pain is back, Joseph’s words stinging. He’s right, of course.

Buck is easy to love. So very, very easy.

He gives affection readily. The pats on the shoulder and ruffling of Eddie’s hair and the _hugs_ are sometimes the only things that get Eddie through the day. The way he curls up next to Eddie on the couch when they watch movies after Chris is in bed, the way he whirls Christopher around when he picks him up. Buck is easy to love and he loves easily. But he’s also the most insecure person Eddie has ever met.

It had taken him awhile too notice it. After all, Buck had spent years perfecting his mask. But after a while Eddie had seen through, to the broken little boy who was constantly afraid of being left behind. He’d spent a long time trying to help stick those little bits of Buck back together, and he thought he’d been succeeding.

But when something had been stuck back together the next time it broke there was so many more pieces.

“No.” He finally responds. “He’s not hard to love. Not at all.”

Joseph allows him back in the room, following closely. They walk back to the last cubicle, and Eddie pulls the curtain open, letting Joseph in first.

Buck’s asleep or close to it, Chris gone on his chest.

Eddie’s boys (he doesn’t know if he can still call Buck his) are curled into one another and he doesn’t want to move them. He wants to sit in this moment and pretend everything is normal.

But even as he goes to sit in the chair Joseph hasn’t taken up, Buck jolts awake. His eyes dart wildly around the room for a second, then meet Eddie’s and then finally settle on Christopher’s head.

“Mind if I say goodbye before you take him?”

Buck sounds awful, voice hoarse. Eddie hadn’t noticed the last time they’d spoken.

“Of course. But I can bring him back, Buck. You can see him again. tomorrow if you want. I-” he pauses. “I’m not going to take him away again. I shouldn’t have the first time. I won’t make that mistake again.”

He sees the shock in Buck’s eyes and is ashamed to realise that he can also see distrust in Buck’s eyes. He thinks this could be a joke.

“I promise, Buck. Anytime you want to see him, you call. Hell, show up at the door, you still have a key. He’s missed you.” He pauses, sucks up his pride and thinks of what he nearly lost. “I have too.”

Buck nods, and Eddie offers him a small smile as he begins shaking Christopher awake. He doesn’t smile back, but he doesn’t hit him either. Eddie takes it as a win

* * *

After reassuring Christopher that yes, he will see him again soon and no, Buck isn’t going to get lost again, Buck pays for the exertion of being up half a day by sleeping for the next day and a half. As soon as Eddie leaves, he’s sinking back into darkness, not even having the energy to apologise to Joseph for going to sleep before he’s there. There’s a new watcher with him in the evening, who wakes him with professional warmth and forces him to eat dinner. He drifts off with the fork in his mouth twice before she takes pity on him and pushes the tray away.

When he wakes next, the sky is low in the window, but Buck notices, it’s a different window.

Joseph is back at his side, but the chair he sits in is different. Buck’s bag rests on a table the previous room didn’t have, and it takes him a second to realise he’s in a room with a door rather than a curtain.

“ ‘seph?” His throat and eyes are dry and he stifles a cough with the slurred word.

Joseph looks up from his book, a smile crossing his face.

“Look who’s finally up again. How are you feeling?”

Buck runs a hand across his face, looking around the small room. “Tired. Time’sit? Where am I?”

“I’ll bet you are. It’s quarter past five- pm” he adds the last part as I an afterthought. “You slept through the night and were still out when I got in this morning. Stayed asleep right through all their tests and they decided your kidney function was good enough to leave nephrology and come down to a general ward. You’ll be here until discharge tomorrow morning. They were going to wake you when they moved you but I told them just to let them sleep, figured your body would wake you up when it was done with sleeping.”

That means he’d been asleep for the better part of twenty hours, not counting the brief period of wakefulness for dinner the night before.

He suddenly clings to one part of Joseph’s explanation.

“My discharge tomorrow? They’re letting me out?”

Buck hadn’t paid much attention to his initial treatment, too focused on the disappointment of finding he was alive and then the loneliness once more crushing him. He’d figured that once the suicide watch was up, he’d be stuck in the psych ward.

“Yep. Technically your watch ends in the middle of the night but they’ll wait until the morning to release you.”

Silently, Buck thinks he must have fooled the councillor better than he’d thought. He isn’t sure if the thought of being home alone frightens him or not.

“Oh.”

“Are you looking forward to being home?”

“Huh?” Not the question he expected.

“Are you excited to be going home? It can’t have been fun being stuck here, and I’m sure you’re looking forward to going back to work. You don’t seem the type that likes sitting round doing nothing.”

He snorts. “They’re never going to let me back now.”

“Why would you say that? I know you said things haven’t been good right now, but I’ll tell you, there have been people waiting out there for you to let them in ever since you were admitted.”

“They probably feel guilty. And they won’t want a liability like me back on the team.”

“I mean, sure, they feel guilty. But people usually feel guilty because they know they’ve done wrong by someone they care about. If they didn’t care they wouldn’t feel guilt. As for a liability, after the way you’ve spoken about your job, I don’t think you’re the kind that would ever put anyone in danger, and that includes being on the job when you aren’t ready.”

He focuses on the sheet tangled between his fingers.

“I never thought of it like that.”

There’s a knock at the door before Joseph can respond, and both men look up to see a smiling orderly with a tray.

“Hi, Joseph paged the desk that you were up. I figure you’re pretty hungry by now?”

Now that it’s been mentioned, Buck is aware of the groaning in his stomach.

He’s lost a lot of weight the past few months, grown used to being hungry when not welcomed at team dinners. But he’s only eaten a few meals in the last few days, and missed breakfast and lunch.

“Thanks, I am.”

He raises the bedhead until he’s seated in a near-straight L, pausing for a moment as his head rushes. There’s black spot in his eyes and they aren’t clearing.

“You alright?”

He blinks slowly, realising as his vision clears that he’s slid sideways and is being held by Joseph’s warm hand.

“Sorry.” Blinks again, straightens his spine. “Sorry, yeah. Moved too quickly.”

Joseph leaves his hand on Buck’s shoulder a second longer anyway, nodding as the orderly sets the meal on the table and rolls it so it sits over Buck’s lap.

“Give us a yell if you need anything.”

Buck tits his head in thanks as the orderly leaves.

The hand is removed from his shoulder. “Let’s see what we have here.” Joseph lifts the plastic cover, revealing some kind of meat accompanied by fruit, juice and pack of biscuits.

“Looks good.” Buck’s tone is as dry as the meat on the plate.

Joseph chuckles. “Could be worse.”

“Oh, definitely. After my first leg surgery they gave me something they called quiche. I’ve been to the hipster parts of LA enough to know that whatever was on my plate was _not_ quiche.”

Joseph laughs as Buck begins picking at the meal.

He’s finishing off the juice when he next speaks. “Do you think I should see them?”

He doesn’t need to clarify.

“Yes.” To the point. He appreciates that. “See them, not forgive them. You need to give yourself permission to be sad and angry. But you aren’t going to get any better ignoring the problem. At best, you’ll end up back here. At worst, you’ll succeed where you failed the other day.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself.”

He says it quietly, ashamedly. It’s not technically a lie, but Joseph reads the words for what they are.

“Not at first. Look, Buck, you may have fooled the first-year psych resident but I’ve been doing this a long time. I heard what happened. Sure, you cut your arm on a kitchen knife accidentally. But ending up in a bathtub, fully clothed, with the plug in? Nah. That’s not accidental.”

He can’t argue. “I’m not going to do it again.”

“But are you going to help yourself if something happens again? Are you going to put effort into getting into the sort of mental space that you want to live? Because right now, you aren’t actively trying to die but I don’t see you caring if you live.”

“It’s just hard. And I don’t want to bother anyone with my own shit. I’ve done enough of that recently.”

“Look, Buck, I know you have a messed-up view of your self-worth but part of having a family is _getting to bother them with your shit_. If they love you, they’ll want to help you through it. You have to start seeing yourself as just as important as you see them. I know you’ve tried to help everyone through their issues, but you have to expect the same level of support you would give them.”

“But I get why they’re angry at me. And even though I’m mad at them I don’t think I have any right to be.”

“You need to talk to them Buck. You can’t just live in an endless cycle of guessing and stewing. None of you can.”

“I don’t even know how to start.”

It hurts to admit. It hurts that he can’t being to figure out how he’d approach them.

“Start in the morning. You aren’t allowed to drive, so call someone to pick you up.”

_What if I call and no one answers?_

Joseph can see the question on his face. “They’ll come, Buck.”

He’s embarrassed to feel tears building behind his eyes. Suddenly, he’s engulfed in arms.

He’s being hugged.

Joseph’s hugging him.

It feels just as good as Christopher’s earlier.

He allows himself to sink into the comfort. With food in his stomach and the feeling of being cared for, he sinks into sleep.

* * *

Joseph feels the moment Buck slips to sleep in his arms.

The poor kid’s exhausted. Joseph had watched him all day, knowing that even when he was asleep, he was not resting. The blood loss would affect him for a few weeks at least. Joseph had seen it before.

After his son’s second suicide attempt (the successful one), his wife had left. She was too wrapped in her own grief to have time to love. Joseph didn’t blame her. Couldn’t, when he blamed himself for Corey’s death. By the time he’d finally been in a place to try and help her she was on the other side of the country and he’d had to channel his need to help somewhere else. His therapist had suggested this. He worked six days a week, in twelve hours shifts on suicide watches. He got to help people when they had no one else and everything felt helpless. But in his years on the job he’d never met anyone quite like Evan Buckley.

The boy was quiet and broken in a way few were. All the people Joseph saw were broken, but there was something different about Buck. He’d been briefed on how the boy had been admitted, and the more time he’d spent with the young man the more he was saddened for him.

He slowly leans the boy back until he’s resting on the pillows and lowers the bed. He draws the covers up, and indulges himself by resting a hand in fluffy hair.

Buck is 28. Corey would have been 28 had he lived to the following month. He moves his hand. His shift ended in half an hour, but he’d be back at eight-am before the Buck’s discharge. He tried not to care too much about the people under his watch, tried to let them go when they walked out the door. But there is something about Evan Buckley.

Something tells him he isn’t going to be able to let this one go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Joseph POV for you:) Never usually a fan of OC's but I've become rather attached- let me know what you think of him though and whether you want to see more/less of him. 
> 
> As always, I'd love to know what you think. So please, comment away! I've been so grateful for the support so far. 
> 
> Hopefully another chapter in the next two days to make up from the absence. See you then,  
> Rose xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, another chapter (slightly shorter but I figured something was better than nothing). Probably a week now before the next one, but we're finally getting somewhere.   
> Thanks so much for the feedback on the last chapter. Deciding to keep Joseph, but his role will be reduced from here on in. we're finally getting some characters other than Buck/Eddie/Joseph, and that will continue past this chapter. 
> 
> Quick warning, things get worse before they get better, but they do get better! This chapter is also pretty dialogue heavy, but it really needs to be.
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think.

Buck’s glad Joseph is there in the morning when he wakes up, even though he no longer has to be. The old man helps him change into a t-shirt and stays by his side as his final checks are done and he is cleared.

The Doctor leaves him with the numbers of several councillors and a warning that he’s not going to be able to do much more than sleep when he gets home. 

He’s dozing, waiting for the discharge papers, when Joseph hands him his phone.

“Call him.”

Buck takes the phone but doesn’t make a move to unlock it.

“You aren’t getting home on your own and you don’t need the expense of an Uber. Call your friend.”

Sighing, he types in his password, scrolling through his contacts until he gets to Eddie. He hesitates for another second, but under the intense gaze of his watcher, hits _Call_.

The phone rings twice and before Buck can consider chickening out, it’s picked up.

“Buck? Are you alright? What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Eddie is frantic, not letting Buck get a word in edgewise as he rambles in panic.

“Edd-”

“Where are you? I’m getting Christopher in the car right now, we’re coming.”

“Eddie!”

“When did you get out of hospital? Why didn’t you tell anyone? Hold on, I’ve got Chris, I’m heading out the door right now.”

He can hear Chris’ questions in the background and the banging as Eddie tries to get out the door. For a moment, Buck vividly remembers the feeling of having his best friend care for him, recalls having Eddie chaotically trying to fluff pillows around his casted leg while Buck watches on in amusement from the couch. The thought draws a laugh, and that with the final “Eddie!” finally gets the older man to pause on the other end of the phone.

“Eddie, I’m okay. I’m fine I was calling because-” he pauses, the moment of mirth passing as reality sets back in.

“Buck?” quieter, this time.

“I’m being discharged and I didn’t drive here. I wondered if you could maybe you could come get me and drop me home? If you’re busy its fine and I can get an Uber or something it’s not a big deal.”

It’s him rambling now.

“Of-course Buck.” Quiet still. “I’m already leaving. You don’t even need to ask.”

Quieter still. “I’m sorry you think I’d consider saying no.”

There is silence on both ends. Eddie can’t follow up and Buck doesn’t know how to respond. The silence drags, broken only by the hum of Eddie’s truck in the background.

Buck waits. Eddie speaks.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Ah, yeah. Thanks.”

As soon as he hangs up, Joseph rests a hand on his shoulder and the panic sets in.

He feels his breathing accelerate, glad the heart monitor had been removed.

“Hey, what’s wrong. He’s coming, right?”

Buck doesn’t know how to explain the feeling in his chest. The worry he’s overstepped, that Eddie is only coming because he feels obligated. He doesn’t want to go back to the feelings of loneliness and abandonment, and if Eddie comes only to leave again, Buck isn’t sure he can take it.

“Buck, you need to breathe. Deep breaths son, in and out.”

Buck tries, he does. But the breath gets caught in his throat. He’s beginning to think something is wrong.

“You can do it son, inhale, there you go. Hold it, good. Exhale. That’s the way.”

Slowly, he remembers how to breathe. He breathes in as a hand runs up his back, out as it goes back down. The panic attack has only lasted a few minutes, but Buck is more exhausted than normal.

“You good?”

“I think so.”

“You wanna tell me what that was about?”

“Scared.” He admits quietly. It’s the only word that seems to encompass what he feels.

“That makes sense. I think you just need to stop overthinking, at least for now. You’re going to need to have a lot of tough conversations pretty soon but you’re too exhausted for that now. You need to relax, rest up, and worry about everything else later. For now, focus on this— you’re okay. Your friends care enough to wait by your room for three days. Eddie is coming to pick you up, no questions asked. Things are okay.”

Things are okay. Things are okay. Things are okay.

Buck nods and tries to believe it. He sinks back against the pillows.

His eyes flutter shut. “You mind?”

Joseph snorts. “Boy, if I minded you sleeping I woulda quit the first day. I’ll wake you when your boy gets here.”

That wakes him up.

“He’s not mine.”

Joseph outright laughs this time. “Right. You’re bad as each other.”

“What does that mean?”

Joseph laughs again, but it is softer. He rests his hand on Buck’s leg.

“You’ll both figure it out when the time is right. Go to sleep.”

Buck doesn’t argue.

* * *

Eddie breathes deeply as he pulls into the short-term carpark. He’d spent the drive convincing himself and Christopher that Buck was alright, that they were bringing him home.

The little boy still wasn’t speaking to him outside of those situations it was strictly necessary.

Eddie helps him out of the car, trying to ignore the sting as Chris shrugs off his hand as soon as he is on the ground.

Muscle memory leads the two to the Buck’s room, and through the glass he could see him asleep on the bed.

He is entirely in his own clothes, shoes at the foot of the bed ready to go. He's free of any tubes, the only sign of his ill-health apale, gaunt face and the slight bulk of one sleeve over the bandage.

He turns to Chris before opening the door. “Be quiet until I wake Buck, okay?”

He gets a glare in return. “I wasn’t going to wake him.”

Eddie brushes it off, opening the sliding door quietly.

“Hey Joseph.” The man has grown on Eddie. “How is he?”

“He’s alright, tired, but he will be for a while. Ready to get out of here. They dropped the discharge papers over while he was asleep, he’s good to go. You going to wake him, or should I?”

Eddie shakes his head, already moving towards the bed. He hears Chris begin to talk to Joseph, but focuses on the man in front of him. He rests a hand on Buck’s shoulder.

“Buck”

His head shifts on the pillow, eyelids fluttering.

Eddie squeezes his shoulder and calls again, watching as Buck wakes up fully.

There is a moment, blissful and brief, where Eddie can pretend that everything is normal. He smiles as Buck scrunches his nose, but it quickly drops as Buck makes eye contact and immediately looks worried.

“Hey, ready to blow this joint?” Eddie goes with casual.

Buck nods, and Eddie hopes this silent, skittish version of his friend won’t last.

“Buck, you’re awake!”

A small but genuine smile crosses Buck’s face as he shifts his legs off the bed and leans over for a hug from Christopher.

“Hey little man; how are you?”

“Good! I’m happy I get to see you again.”

“I’m happy to see you too.”

They hug for a second longer, before Buck breaks it.

“Ah, Joseph, a hand?”

Joseph grabs his arm as Buck goes to stand; he’d been on his feet but unsteady the few times he’d been up.

They share a brief hug once he’s on his feet, and Joseph hands him a small card.

“Anything, you call, alright?”

Buck nods, and enjoys as he is drawn into another hug.

He turns back to Eddie, and there is a moment of awkward silence before Eddie takes the place at Buck’s side.

“Car’s this way.”

The walk out to the car takes far longer than Buck had expected. Having only crossed the distance between his bed and the bathroom since being admitted, he wasn’t prepared for the strain of the two-hundred or so metres between the ward and the carpark.

He’d claimed the seat in the back next to Christopher, knowing Eddie wouldn’t be able to argue with them both and he was less likely to try and talk to Buck with him in the back.

He slumps into the truck, ready to fall back to sleep, when he notices the direction Eddie turns out of the carpark.

“Eddie, my apartment’s the other way.”

“I know.”

“Eddie.”

“Buck, I’m not going to drop you off at your apartment, alone. Not after what happened.”

“Eddie.” He growls the name, a warning not to go there with Christopher in the vicinity. “I asked you to take me home.”

“Yes, and I’m saying that home is going to be with us for a little while.”

“Eddie I’m not a child!”

A small voice breaks in before the argument can continue. “Please stay with us Buck. I’ve missed you and Daddy said you couldn’t go to work for a while so you can play with me.”

Buck sighs. He ignores the comment about work, and he still can’t say no to Chris. “Alright buddy, I’ll stay.”

As they pull into the driveway twenty-five minutes later, Buck is jolted out of the stupor he’d fallen into. He immediately began regretting giving into the demand to stay with Eddie when he realised the driveway already had two cars in it- Maddie’s and Bobby’s.

“Eddie.”

The man in question ignores him, getting out of the car and taking both Buck’s bag and Christopher out too.

“Eddie!”

“They wanted to see you Buck.”

Eddie continues towards the door.

Buck knows he can’t argue, but figuring he’ll pull the tired card and escape the conversation, trudges towards the door on mostly steady legs.

He’s unsurprised to see Maddy, Bobby and Athena seated on the couch, grateful with the unexpected absence of Chim.

“Christopher, go play for a bit.”

Chris ignores his father, instead moving to where Buck has frozen in the doorway. Tiny fingers curl around Buck’s hand.

“I can stay with you Buck.”

God, he loves this kid. But it isn’t fair to drag him into business this complicated and sad.

“Thanks bud, but I’m okay. I’ll play with you soon, yeah? Go get started on something good for us.”

He waits until he hears the sound of Christopher’s door— slightly too loud, slammed accidently due to a lack of fine motor skills. As soon as he’s sure that Chris is out of earshot, he speaks.

“Look, I know you all want to talk, but I’m too tired right now. I need to get some sleep and I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

He moves to escape to the guest bedroom and the sanctuary provided by the only locking room in the house, but feels a pain as his bad arm is grabbed and his departure is halted. He hisses, turning to see a guilty looking Eddie releasing his bad arm.

“Sorry. But we need to talk.”

“No, I need to sleep.”

“Buck.” Bobby, this time, voice warning like it had been the night he’d told Buck it was he stopping him getting back to work.”

“No, now’s not the time. Please.”

He’s only half lying. He doesn’t want to talk, but he is tired.

“Evan, we need to talk about this. Obviously, we need to apologise, and you need to talk to us so we can make sure this doesn’t happen again. We care about you; we want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I don’t need to do anything!” He turns, facing them and bracing an arm on the entranceway he’d tried to flee through. “I’m not going to off myself, if that’s what you’re all so worried about. Trust me, I’m as bad at that as I am everything else.”

It’s a mean joke, he knows that, but he’s tired and stressed and he doesn’t want to deal with this.

He knows he shouldn’t have said it when the occupants of the room appear to have been slapped.

“Have you got any idea what it was like?” Eddie’s voice is low and angry and Buck is reminded of his anger at the station in the days after Buck had started back. “Have you got any idea what it was like to get that phone call?”

“wait, what phone call?”

“I’m not done! We get that phone call; we’re scared shitless thinking you might have been shot in some back alley and we’ll never find you or you're stuck in a car crash without help. But we split up and try to find you anyway and we get to your apartment and it looks like a bloody murder scene! Yet instead of some psycho, it's just you. You, lying in a bathtub to make for a nice, easy clean up and saying ‘no thanks’ when we tell you not to die! You were going to leave us, with a phone call and a pot of boiling water and nothing else!”

“What phone call?” he shouts again. It had always bothered him, that he didn’t know how he’d been found on time.

“The fucking slurred goodbye to Christopher you made from your goddamn bathroom!”

“That was a call?”

“What?”

Eddie’s voice has lost the rage, now quiet with confusion.

“I left a voice message. I didn’t call you.”

“You did, Buck.” He looks over to Maddie, sees the tears streaming down her face. He always hated seeing her cry. “You called Eddie, we all heard.”

He suddenly feels hollow. If he had have hit message instead of call, Eddie may not have seen it for hours. He may not have found him. He sees the moment the rest of the occupants in the room come to the same realisation, horror across their faces.

“Great. Just fucking great.”

“It was great, actually. Because it meant we found you and now we can sort this out.”

He glares at Bobby. “I don’t want to sort this out right now! I just want to go to bed.”

“Buck, we can’t just forget what we saw and you need to deal with whatever is going on in your head. We’re sorry Buck, god are we sorry, but nothing will get better if you don’t talk!”

“You abandoned me Bobby! I can’t just get over that. I don’t know what it was like for you that night but you don’t know what it was like for me the months before. You never asked. You abandoned me. Just like everyone else.”

“And we’re sorry Buck, but-.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough! I don’t want to talk about this right now. Now either let me go to sleep so we can talk later or I’m leaving!”

“Buckaroo, you can’t keep avoiding this.”

It’s the first time Athena’s spoken. Buck isn’t mad at her. To be fair, he’s not mad at any of them. But he is hurt, and finally starting to realise he’s allowed to be.

“I’m not avoiding it. I’m just not dealing with it right now. And if you can’t respect that, I’m leaving.”

“You can’t just leave Buck.” Eddie’s reaching for his arm again and Buck jumps back. He can’t do this. He’s claustrophobic and the attention he’d craved from his teammates just a week ago was now overwhelming. He needs to get out.

“Yes, I can! I can leave! I get to leave this time!”

Quieter, telling himself more than anyone.

“I leave this time.”

He’s on his phone as he storms out the door, ordering an Uber. It’s only a street away and winter has only just begun. He can make the walk. He closes the door softly. No need to break a door with his shit.

He pretends not to hear Maddie as the door clicks shut.

“I think he thinks if he leaves first this time it will stop people leaving him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've had a confrontation! And Buck is back on his own... what could possibly go wrong?  
> Who's side are you on? Should Buck face the music or is he allowed more time? Let me know.  
> I'd love to hear what you think.  
> Until next time,  
> xx Rose


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Ya'll,  
> Once again thanks for all the kind words on the last chapter, I'm really glad people are connecting to this story and wanting to see more. This is a bit short but I really wanted to get something out.   
> There's also some (brief) Bobby POV for those that have been asking, I promise more is coming!  
> As always, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

The further Buck gets from the house the more he regrets leaving. The Uber is only a street away, but even bundled in sweats and a hoodie the chill immediately sets in. He realises, less than a hundred metres away from Eddie’s front door, that he doesn’t have the energy to go further. The tears start slowly, speeding up as he admits defeat, cancels the ride and slumps onto the curb.

His shoulders shake, from cold or exhaustion or the tears, he isn’t sure. Probably all. It doesn’t matter. The team had been trying to apologise. They wanted to see him, they wanted to help him. It was everything Buck had been wishing for since he’d dropped the lawsuit and he’d gone and blown it.

He should call Eddie. Or Bobby. Or Maddie, or Chim or any of the people he knows would arrive in a heartbeat to help him back to the house.

He doesn’t.

* * *

“I think he thinks if he leaves first this time it will stop people leaving him.”

Silence sets in at Maddie’s words as the group realise how they’ve managed to collectively fuck up once again.

The nervous twitch in Eddie’s fingers sets in quickly. The longer no-one speaks, the more his fingertips jitter, tapping an off-beat rhythm against his jeans. The motion builds until his hands are flapping against his side anxiously and he can take the silence no longer.

“You all need to leave and I need to go get Buck.”

The silence is immediately forgotten as everyone begins talking over each other.

“No. We just messed up. Again. He needs space and he’s tired. God, you guys haven’t seen him much but he’s exhausted.” He walks over to his jacket where he’d dumped it over the back of the couch and shrugs it on. “Maddie, can you and Chim stay with Chris while I go see where he is? Everyone else needs to leave. We do this on his terms.”

It isn’t a request and the room deflates as they begin to realise that somehow, inexplicably, they’ve managed to make this worse. Maddie nods, and Eddie follows the trail of people out the door.

It doesn’t take him long to realise that Buck’s plan had not been well thought out. He can see a figure on the curb just down the street, notices as the group around him sees him too. He shakes his head at the unasked question and sets off in a jog towards Buck alone.

He slows as he approaches, concern skyrocketing when he notices the shivers racking Buck’s frame and the heaving of his shoulders. Resisting the urge to wrap him up in a hug until everything is all better, Eddie instead sits beside him, shoulder just brushing Buck’s.

He waits a moment for Buck to make the first move, but when nothing is said, he drapes an arm over his shoulder instead. When it isn’t shrugged off, he shuffles closer so Buck is tucked into his side; usually the bigger of the two, Buck now leans in and fits in the gap comfortably.

“Are you okay?” He can’t take the silence.

A snort.

“Sorry, sorry. I mean, do you have someone coming to pick you up? Is your arm hurting? Can I do anything? That sort of okay.”

“Who’d be coming for me, Eddie? I had one family and they all hate me. And then they tried to fix things and I blew them off. The only person that’s coming is right here and it’s probably just because he doesn’t want the guilt of my dying on some curb on his mind for the rest of his life.”

There’s so much to unpack, so many things he needs to say, but there’s one thing that had struck an ice-pick into his heart and he needs to check that first.

“Buck, you aren’t going to die on a street. At least, I don’t think so. Is there a reason I should be worried? Do I need to get help?”

Buck lets out a sigh, leaning further into Eddie’s warmth and if it wasn’t for the cold pavement beneath him, Eddie could almost pretend there was nothing wrong and he had everything he’d ever wanted.

“I’m not about to bleed out, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m just an idiot that thought he could walk further than he could and is now stuck in the freezing cold.

Thank God.

“Oh.”

Eddie can see his driveway is mostly clear, the cars had all headed back to the highway without passing the men on the curb.

“I’m sorry about back there. You didn’t screw anything up, that was on us.”

He gazes across the street waiting for a reply that doesn’t come, finds focus on the streetlight opposite.

“Look, I really don’t want to leave you by yourself tonight. If you don’t mind, I want you to come back to my place and take the guest room. I promise that I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. I just need to know you’re safe. But,” he pauses, takes a breath, “If it’s really what you want, I’ll help you back to the car, bring Chris out so he can say goodbye and I’ll drive you to your apartment.”

“No more talking tonight?”

The words are muffled into his shoulder. “Pardon?”

“If I go back to yours, you’ll let me go to bed, no more talking tonight?”

The voice is so small, nothing like the outraged defiance Buck had spouted earlier.

“Not if you don’t want to. And for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry I tried to make you earlier.”

He feels Buck nod against him.

“I’m so tired Eddie.” Buck lets more of his weight drop onto Eddie’s side. “I’m so tired and I’m so lonely and I’m mad at everyone but I miss them too and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Eddie only realises that Buck had stopped crying when he starts again, jolting against Eddie’s chest as he sobbed.

“I just don’t know what to do.”

Eddie wants to cry. He wants to be the one getting a hug and being told everything will be alright. But Buck needs him to not be selfish. Buck needs the friend Eddie had stopped being.

He straightens them so he still supports Buck but now the younger man’s head is on his shoulder.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to walk home. Then, your sister is going to give you a hug because neither or us can stop that. Chim probably will to. Chris defintley will. And then, I’m going to put you in bed and then I’m going to leave you alone, Maddie is going to go home. You can go to sleep. And everything else can be sorted out when you aren’t so exhausted. When _you’re_ ready.”

He feels the cries slow. “That sounds alright.”

“Yeah?”

A deep exhale. “Yeah.”

* * *

It takes a little while before Buck is ready to move, but Eddie is starting to get more worried about the cold and he eventually has to put an end to the comfortable silence they’ve fallen into.

“C’mon’, up you get.” He shifts his arm down to Buck’s waist, hauling them both to their feet. They stand a moment as Buck lists slightly to the side.

“You good?”

“I think so.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, got a bit dizzy but I think I’m okay.”

“Let me know, yeah? We can take a break if you need it.”

Buck nods, and they start back towards the house.

* * *

They walk slowly; the trek out of the hospital had been aided by the fact Buck was well rested, but now, emotionally and physically drained, Eddie is worried Buck is going to collapse before they make it to the driveway. Nevertheless, they reached the door and Eddie manhandled Buck through.

Eddie settles him on the couch immediately, draping the throw across his lap before heading towards the kitchen where Maddie and Chim hover.

He keeps his voice low. “He’s fine. Tired and cold, but fine. Say goodbye and head straight out. I’ll text you later.”

To his surprise, neither argue and he followed them back towards the couch, hanging back as Maddie crouched in front of her little brother. She cups his cheek, smiling sadly as his eyes flutter open- in the short time he’d been sitting he’d travelled halfway to sleep.

“I love you Ev. And I’m here to apologise and love you whenever you’re ready for me, okay?”

He nods, still looking sleepy and whiplashed from the shift in perspective his family had had between him leaving and returning to Eddie’s.

She stood, waiting while Chim settled for a brief yet firm hug.

Eddie escorts them to the door, hovering as they head for their car.

“Let everyone know he’s alright for me?”

“Yeah, sure.” Chim pauses. “He’s really alright?”

Eddie turns his head over his shoulder and sees that Christopher has re-emerged from his room and is talking to an again half-asleep Buck.

“I think so.”

* * *

Eddie waits for Chris’ latest story to reach a conclusion and intercepts the little boy before he can start another.

“Bud, as much as I know Buck wants to hear all your stories, he looks pretty tired, doesn’t he?”

He watches as Chris’ eyes track the droop in Buck’s eyelids and the slump in his shoulders, as well as the way he hadn’t really reacted when Eddie interrupted their conversation. Innocent despite his intelligence, Christopher smiles softly.

“I think he needs a nap Daddy.”

It was the most warmth he’d spoken to his father with in a day, and though it was more a reaction to Buck than anything, Eddie took what he could get.

“I think so too. What do you say, Buck?” He rests a hand atop Buck’s blanket covered knee and waits until the glazed eyes focused. “Ready to get some sleep in a real bed.”

“You bet.”

He shrugs off the blanket, but rather than leaning on Eddie, takes the hand Christopher offers and slowly ambles down the hallway, for once not having to focus on going slowly to walk next to Chris.

Eddie follows equally slowly, not wanting to intrude where he wasn’t wanted but still scared seeing Buck so weak.

He props himself against the doorframe as Chris helps Buck pull the covers back on the guest bed Eddie had set up.

“Wait!” Chris jumps as Buck settles under the duvet. “Don’t go to sleep, I’ve got to get something.”

Eddie gets out of the way as his son speed walks out of the room, smiling fondly as he hears the clunky steps.

The little boy returns quickly with a small blanket around his shoulders like a cape. He shuffles back towards the bed and with as much precision as he can muster with uncooperative muscles, drapes is over a barely-awake Buck.

“This is my best blanket. Daddy got it for me so when I had to get surgery I could have a hug from him even if he had to leave. It’s my favourite, but I think you need lots of hugs right now.”

Chris is proven right as Buck’s shaky hand runs over the tiny cheek, a tear slipping from his eye.

“Thank you buddy, this is perfect. It feels like my own, portable Christopher hug.”

“And a Daddy hug. Even though I’m mad at him, his hugs are still good.”

Buck’s eyes meet Eddie’s over the curly head of hair between them.

“They are, aren’t they.

* * *

When Bobby Nash gets home, his wife immediately gives him the cold shoulder and he finds himself seeking shelter in his office.

With the week off for his team, there is no paperwork or prep-work to be done and instead the captain finds himself caught up in memories of the last few months.

The terror of the ladder-truck bombing. When he thought he was going to lose Buck like he’d lost his other kids. The screams the kid had let out as they ground his bones trying to free him. The relief when they’d found out he was going to pull through. The shame when Bobby hadn’t been able to face him in the recovery ward.

He thinks of Buck’s recertification, the fear when he’d realised Buck was going to be back on calls. Then the horror at seeing him collapse and the guilt at being glad he had a reason to keep the boy on the sidelines away from more danger.

But it hadn’t been enough. He’d still been caught in a tsunami.

And then the lawsuit.

Pushing Buck away so he could protect them both. Without Buck on calls, he couldn’t get hurt. Without Buck in his life, Bobby couldn’t get hurt if he died. The world’s most sadistic win-win.

Bobby wants a drink. But all he can see are his kid’s understanding eyes as he’d broken and begged Buck and Hen for help. He can see the blood on the floor as he tried to stop the same kid from bleeding out because he’d had no one who he could ask for help. He can’t fail that kid yet again.

So, Robert Nash does not go to the liquor store. He stays in his office. He cries. Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a nothing/filler chapter here but it needed to be done and we have officially started on the road home! I hope you don't think I'm letting anyone off too easy, but let's be real, these guys know they did wrong and even if they suck at it, they are trying to fix things in their own way. We still have a way to go, and the next chapter will be more action packed.   
> Please let me know what you thought- positive or negative. I'd love to hear!  
> xx Rose


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone!
> 
> I'd like to apologise for the break. As I briefly explained to one lovely commenter, I have just finished my first year of law school, with exams over the last fortnight. The original plan was to get one chapter out before exams, and one after, but by the time I realised that wasn't going to happen, I thought it would be mean to publish an AN chapter and get people excited about an update (which has happened to me before).
> 
> So, in return, I've given you the longest chapter to date, coming in at 4.3k of goodness. It was edited rather than quickly in the interest in getting it out tonight and not tomorrow night after work, so if you see anything wrong let me know. 
> 
> Thank you for all your support and patience- I appreciate you understanding I have to prioritise school.  
> Please let me know what you think of this chapter, it's a doozy!

Buck wakes with the sun low in the sky and for the first time since waking in the hospital he does not immediately want to go back to sleep. He basks peacefully for a moment before the conversation from the night before trickles back to his mind.

One particular piece of information comes to the forefront. He left a voice message. He reaches for his phone, set aside before he’d gone to sleep and thumbs to the most recent message. Trembling, he hits play and hears his own barely-there voice come across the line.

“Hey ‘die. Jus called ‘cause wan-ed to tell Chris I love’im. Love’im so much. Best thing tha ev’r happen, you an him. Love im so much. Love you. Bye.”

Before he can panic at the memories rushing back he hears the creak of the door opening and stuffs the phone away, looking up to see Eddie.

There is a brief flash of surprise on the older man’s face before it settled into the nervous, worried expression that’s been there the last week.

“Hey, you’re up. I was just coming to see how you were doing.”

Buck sits up against the headboard, nodding as Eddie gestures towards the foot of the bed, curling his long legs towards himself as the bed dips with Eddie’s weight.

“I’ve got some pasta, if you’re hungry. It’s nothing special, but Chris eats it. It’ll be out of the oven in half an hour or so; I can bring a bowl in here if you want, or you can eat out with us. Or just Chris, I can go. Or you don’t have to have anything, but the doctor did say it would be important-”

“Eddie.” He sighs. Without the exhaustion clouding his mind he’s able to think more clearly than he’s been able to in weeks. “We need to talk.”

“If you aren’t ready, we don’t have to.” The uncertainty is something Buck isn’t used to in Eddie’s voice.

“I don’t know if I’m ready but I need to. And I need you to know what happened. I owe you that much.”

Eddie nods, turning to face Buck more front on.

“I didn’t mean to. That’s the first thing you need to know. Not at first.”

“What?”

“It did start as an accident. I was making dinner and I just…slipped.” He exhales shakily, glad when Eddie stays silent. “I couldn’t get myself to the ER. And I was going to call you, I really was. But you guys all have family and I didn’t want to bother you. And the longer I thought about it the more tired I got and it just felt, I don’t know, easier if I didn’t. Go to sleep, don’t wake up. No more problems for me or anyone else.”

He finally looks back up, not having been able to maintain eye contact while describing how he’d given up.

“Buck.” He isn’t expecting the tears in his friend’s eyes, or the crack in the voice. “I know things have been bad. I know we were jerks because we were hurt and too selfish to accept your apologies. And I know that there are so many things we’ve done that aren’t going to be forgiven overnight but how could you ever think that if you called, we wouldn’t pick up. That if you needed us, we wouldn’t be there or that in any universe we would be better off without you.”

_You’re exhausting._

“I’m exhausting.”

“What did you just say?”

Louder, this time. “I’m exhausting.”

“Buck.” It’s somehow smaller and sadder than the last time he’d said it. “I didn’t mean to say that to you.”

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t mean it.”

“No, I didn’t mean it. Not in the way you took it. You aren’t exhausting, it’s me. I find caring exhausting. Always have. It’s why I ran off when Chris was born, and after. It’s why it was so easy for me to move on from Shannon; it was easier to let her go than keep caring for her. Buck I-”

He breaks off, pain in his eyes. Takes a breath, steels himself. “Buck, I love you so much it hurts. It exhausts me to care for you. When you were hurting, seeing your pain and not being able to do anything about it hurt me and being in that much pain _all the time_ was so damn tiring. And that’s not on you. That’s on me. It’s something _I_ need to deal with. I’m learning to love without it hurting me so that I stop hurting the people I love. You aren’t exhausting. Not like that.”

Buck doesn’t respond. He can’t because Eddie’s just said the thing Buck had always wanted to hear from him but it’s the one time in his life he can’t bask in it.

“I know that pain. I know that feeling of caring so much it makes you want to sleep for weeks. It’s the same thing I feel every time someone leaves me. When you love someone.”

Eddie hears what he can’t explicitly say. That he loves him too. They both know now is not the time to go to that place.

“I know it can’t make up for everything. Or anything. But I am sorry. And, ah, after…after the night we found you I found someone to talk to. I decided I couldn’t let someone get hurt again because I couldn’t deal with my own emotions.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“Buck, you don’t have anything to apologise for.”

“Don’t have to, want to. I ah, I’m sorry you had to listen to that message. And that you had to find me like that.”

“It's forgiven Buck. Completely forgiven. But I’m saying that because that’s what you need, not because it’s something you ever needed to be forgiven for.” He shuffles forward, slowly resting a hand on Buck’s shoulder to give him time to dodge it. “Buck, you shouldn’t apologise because we were such a terrible family you thought we wouldn’t care.”

There are no more words needed, and Buck leans forward, nervous. In sync even after the last few months, Eddie knows exactly what he needs. He shuffles further forward and folds the younger man in a hug. They stay there for a moment before Buck’s shoulders begin to shake and he tightens his grip around Eddie as much as he can. 

“I’ve missed you so much. I’m sorry about the lawsuit. I was so alone and I needed to be with you again.”

“I’ve missed you too. And it’s forgiven. It should have always been forgiven.”

They stay quiet after that, wrapped together until Buck’s arm starts to ache again. He pulls back.

“I don’t think I can forgive you yet. Not completely. I want to… I just can’t.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready, and the whole time until you are.”

Buck’s stomach rumbles loudly, interrupting the moment. He finds himself laughing for what feels like the first time in months. “You said something about pasta?”

* * *

Pasta is one of the few things Eddie can make that is actually edible. He helps Buck into the kitchen and sets him on a chair so he can serve it, calling Christopher as he dishes up the bowls.

“Bucky!”

He smiles as his kid comes clattering into the kitchen, immediately launching himself into the waiting arms of his Buck.

“Hey little man, how was your day?”

“Good. I did my homework and Daddy checked it. But he’s not very good at the science questions so you have to check it too.”

Buck smiles, hugging him tighter. “He’s not, is he. I’ll check it after dinner so it’s all good to go for tomorrow.”

“Alright, if you two have stopped making fun of me, I’ve got food for you.”

Chris jumps off Buck’s lap and shuffles into his own seat, picking up a fork as soon as its in front of him to dig in.

“That good, bud?” Eddie sets a bowl in front of Buck, then sits with his own.

Chris offers him a smile as he nods, a far cry from normal but getting there.

“It actually is, Eddie. You learn to cook in the last month?”

“Well, without you here every other night I had to figure out how to feed this one. He’s gotten so used to your and Bobby’s cooking he can’t survive off pizza every night anymore.” He see’s Buck’s face fall at the reminder of his absence from their lives and quickly corrects with a joke. “You managed to corrupt my fast-food loving kid, Buckley, so you better be sticking around so I don’t have to keep learning to cook.”

Buck smiles, but Chris has picked up on Eddie’s wording.

“Are you staying Buck? Forever?”

The uncomfortable look comes back across Buck’s face and Eddie is quick to jump in.

“He’s staying here for a bit, but after that he can stay here but he might want to have some of his own space.”

The answer satisfies Chris, but there’s a glint to Buck’s eyes Eddie doesn’t recognise.

Chris resumes his chatter, drawing Buck into conversations about the latest playground drama he’d missed. When the plates are clean Eddie stands and clears them.

“Christopher, go have a shower and brush your teeth then we can watch a movie before bed, alright?”

The promise of movie on a Sunday night before school has Chris scrambling towards the bathroom, Buck’s soft smile fixed on him. As soon as the room is clear, Eddie can feel Buck’s question. He places the dishes on the counter and turns, meeting the man’s gaze.

“Did you mean that before?”

Eddie doesn’t have to ask what he means. He nods.

“Really? Why would you want me here?”

“You belong here, Buck. This last week has reminded me how much I’ve missed you. The house is better with you here. And I’m not saying that because I want anything to happen with us straight away, I know we need time.” He snorts. “And probably therapy. I just never want you to be alone again. I want you here, at home with us. For as long as you want. Forever. No strings attached to family.”

He can see Buck trying not to cry, knows he probably doesn’t want to breakdown again. Probably doesn’t have the energy. He crosses the room and gives his friend a quick embrace, not staying too long before clapping him on the shoulder.

“Don’t decide now, there’s no pressure. Chris’ll be out of the shower soon. Go settle on the couch.” He rolls his eyes fondly. "I think the homework sheet is on the coffee table. You really should look over that." 

* * *

Eddie wants to stay in this moment forever. Chris is curled into Buck’s side, providing warmth he is still lacking. Three-quarters of the way through _The Emperor’s New Groove_ the little boy is sacked out against his best friend, soft breaths puffing against his neck. Eddie is on his son’s other side, resting a hand against his back and trying to resist the urge bundle both boys up in his arms.

The three stay on the couch until the credits roll and Eddie can see his friend is only half-conscious himself. It’s easy forget how awful Buck still looks, when he has the comparative image in his mind of the younger man limp and blood-soaked in his bathtub. Despite looking better than that night, Buck is still too pale. He’s skinnier than is healthy and exhausted despite having slept away most of the day. His eyes blink slowly at the credits, not registering the fact the movie’s over. Eddie stands slowly, kneeling in front of Buck and waiting for his eyes to clear before he speaks.

“I’m going to put him to bed, want to come?”

If he though Buck was up to it, he’d let him carry Chris to his room, but he knows that coupled with the exhaustion is a still sore arm and Buck won’t risk dropping him.

Buck runs a hand across Chris’s head, dropping a kiss atop his forehead before nodding.

Eddie gently slips his hands under Chris’ arms and legs, easing him off the couch and heading to place him down. He hears Buck follow him down the hallway and toes the door open. He allows Buck to pass in-front of him and pull the covers back, setting Christopher down as Buck gently removes his glasses. They draw the blankets up together and walk out. Eddie pulls the door closed, leaving a crack for light to filter in and so he can hear any noises in the night.

 _One down, one to go_.

“You ready for bed too? You look exhausted.”

Buck runs a gentle hand across his face, ruffling his hair. “Yeah, pretty much. Gonna brush my teeth and turn in.”

“Sounds good. So, I have to take Chris to school in the morning. I don’t have to work till next week, but I did have some errands to run.”

He sees when Buck catches up.

“And unless I come with you, you need someone here with me.”

“You know it’s not that I don’t trust you. But I need you to be safe.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to get defensive. To be honest, I think I’d feel better having someone here. Probably don’t need to be alone with my thoughts.”

Eddie pulls him close. “I’m really proud of you Buck.” They stay close for a second longer before Eddie pulls back. “You happy to message someone, or will I? The whole team’s off until next week, say the word and they’ll be here.”

“Nah, I’ve got it.”

He doesn’t offer who he’s going to ask, and Eddie doesn’t enquire.

“I’ll be back by around 12, and we can all head out for an early lunch if you like. Or I can bring something home?”

“Would you mind bringing something?”

“Not at all.” He indulges himself in another hug, never wanting to let another pass by after having come so close to losing them altogether. “Alright. You know where I am tonight. Come get me if you need anything. Night, Buck.”

“Night Eddie.”

* * *

Despite being ready for sleep once more, Buck isthrumming with nerves as he sits in bed. With the weight lifted from having started mending his relationship with Eddie, he is more determined to let the rest of the team back in.

He guesses there’s no better place to start than at the top.

* * *

Bobby’s day has been long. He’d emerged from his office after several hours, sinking into the embrace Athena offered. She may be angry with him, but she still cared. Could still show love to someone she was mad at. Something he needed to learn from.

He passes the day baking, trying to focus his energy on something physical and ignore the worry for the boy he thinks of as a son.

As he’s getting ready for bed, a message pops up. He goes to clear it, not ready to be absorbed in the stream of concern in the Buck-less 118 group-chat. It’s then he sees who it’s from and scrambles to unlock his phone.

_Hey Cap, mind dropping over and staying with me for a few hours while Eddie drops Chris at school?_

For a moment he doesn’t believe it’s real, re-reads it over and over again.

He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on, everything alright?”

Her concern is palpable but he can’t find the words to absolve it. He shows her the message instead.

“That’s great, Bobby. It means he’s opening up.”

“I just can’t believe he wants me, Athena. I can’t mess this up again, I can’t.”

“So, don’t. Stop thinking you can protect him from the world and be there for him.”

He takes the phone back.

_Wouldn’t be anywhere else kid._

* * *

When Bobby arrives the next morning, Buck is thrumming with nerves. Eddie had puttered around the house, putting off taking Christopher to school until they were running late so he didn’t leave before the Captain arrived. He’d be mad at being coddled if he didn’t worry about what would happen if he was left alone for too long. When Bobby finally knocked, the Diaz boys barely threw goodbyes over their shoulders before running out the door.

Bobby stands awkwardly in the entranceway. Buck hasn’t moved from his position on the couch, warm under the blanket and enjoying the safety they provide.

The older man holds up a Tupperware container. “I ah, I brought you a breakfast burrito. Figured Eddie wouldn’t have time for much more than cereal and you could use a good meal.”

He finally steps closer to the couch and places the container into Buck’s hands, perching himself on the couch opposite.

Buck doesn’t say anything for a moment, opens the container and looks critically at the contents.

“Haven’t had any of your cooking for a while.” He finally murmurs. Now that Bobby is in front of him, he is overwhelmed with emotions. Fear of rejection yet again, sadness for what he has missed. And, simmering underneath, anger at being abandoned by the man who he thought of as a father.

“Buck, I don’t know how to apologise to you for how I treated you.”

“Do you have any idea what it was like?” Buck interrupts the tirade before it can start. “I was so scared, under that truck. Terrified and out of my mind with pain but then suddenly you were there and I knew it was going to be okay. Even when I was screaming as you ground my bones on the bitumen, I knew it was all going to be alright because you were there. And even when I woke up in recovery without you, without any of my team, it was alright because you helped me through recovery you made me think I could come back and it was all going to be okay. But you were lying to my face. And suddenly, I had to deal with a tsunami and an embolism and the fact my family had abandoned me!”

“Buck…”

“No, you did! You were meant to be my family and you left me all alone. So yeah, I sued you. And I told that dickhead shit I shouldn’t have even though he would have found out anyway. But I was so alone and I just wanted to come home.

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.” He wants to yell but it comes out as a whisper. “You’re sorry now but you don’t know what it was like. My parents never left me. Left implies they were ever there. But Maddie left me. Abbey left me. Then Ali and then all of you. You don’t know what its like to lose your whole fam-”

He breaks off, suddenly starkly aware of what he’s said.

“I do know, Buck. I do. And that doesn’t make what I did better it makes it worse. I killed two of my kids and then I damn near killed a third.”

Buck is getting sick of being on the verge of tears all the time. Sicker of actually crying. This time though, he doesn’t resist and lets tears come, shuffling over on the couch, feeling relieved when Bobby takes the invitation and sits next to him. They are silent for a moment, shoulder to shoulder with their tears before Bobby takes the plunge and wraps an arm around Buck, pulling him close to his chest.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“I know you are. I know you’re all sorry. And I do want to move on from this, I just think that for me I need to work through this all a bit more before things go back to normal.”

Buck shakes as he says it, but the fear of anger is quickly put out.

“That’s good, Buck. You can be too good, sometimes. Too forgiving. You take time for you and we’ll be here whenever you need us.”

Buck relaxes against his shoulder. “Thanks Bobby.”

“I have to tell you kid, just so you know—finding you that night was one of the worst moments of my life. I wouldn’t survive without you.”

* * *

After eating the cold (but still incredible) burrito, Buck passes the rest of the morning in the kitchen with Bobby. There are more important conversations to be had, but for now, they settle on baking. Buck knows it calms his Captain and simply working quietly with him calms Buck. They have brownies done and biscuits on when Eddie gets home with lunch, right when Buck is ready to sit down again.

“I come bearing gifts!”

Eddie’s keys jingle as he makes his way to the kitchen, weighed down with Thai food and other no-descript bags.

Bobby’s quick to help him with the bags as Buck puts out plates and within minutes of his re-entry into the house they’re settling into food.

While lunch is filled with comfortable silence, as soon as plates are clear, Buck knows it is time to confront the elephant in the room—what comes next.

“I want to come back to work.” He starts, immediately seeing the words his friends want to see written on their faces. He cuts them off before they start. “But I know I’m not ready yet. I know you guys go back in a week, and I want to be there. But I think I need a little more time. Just to get myself together.”

Eddie and Bobby relax at those words, allowing him to go on without having to rush.

“I need to see someone. A therapist, I mean. You guys isolated me but that brought up some of my stuff that I’m realising I was never really okay with. And I want to be.” He takes a deep breath. “I’ll need to be on medical leave with my arm for at least three weeks. I know…I know I’m depressed. I looked into it last night, and I’m going to do a two week intensive programme with a trauma therapist that’s covered under my LAFD insurance. After that, if I’m ready, I’ll stay with that therapist and work to get back when I’m medically clear.” He looks to Bobby, sees the pride in his eyes and know that what he’s about to say is the right thing. “But at the end of those three weeks, I want to sit down with the doctor, the psychologist and you, Bobby, and if even one of you doesn’t think I’m ready, I’ll stay out.”

This time, he lets Bobby interrupt.

“Buck, I had no right to bench you last time. I’m not going to do it again.”

“I know, Bobby. That’s why I trust you. I don’t think you’ll do it again.” He looks to Eddie. “And, if you’re okay with it, I’m taking you up on your offer to move in. I already knew I couldn’t go back to my apartment and I don’t want to be alone somewhere else.”

He doesn’t have time to say anything more before he’s overtaken by a hug on both sides.

He’s still hurt by Bobby. He still needs to work out what’s happening with the rest of his team. He needs to talk longer with Eddie, let them figure out what _they_ are, if anything, and if they’re in any position to try and make something more than friendship work. But in this moment, surrounded by his family, it doesn’t matter. He’s taken the first step.

* * *

Christopher is waiting for his Dad to pick him up when Michael Butcher comes up to him.

“Chris, you’re friends with Buck, right?”

He looks up, nodding. Michael’s mother works with his dad, she’s a paramedic.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend.”

“I hear my Mummy talking to my Daddy the other night. She said he nearly died.”

Chris feels tears coming and he scrunches his face up. Last week Caitlin Morris cried in front of Michael and he called her Cry-Baby Cait until Ms Flores made him stop. Chris doesn’t want to be Cry-Baby Chris.

“He’s okay. I saw him, he’s fine.”

“My Mum said he should have died. She said he was a greedy money-grabber and that saving people like him was wasting her time.”

“That’s not true! My Buck is the best person ever!”

He can’t stop the tears, and he can hear the laughter start up behind him. His Dad’s car pulls up and he runs towards it as fast as he can, backpack still on the ground where he’d been resting it.

* * *

Eddie knows something is wrong the second he puts the car into park. He can see Chris running towards him, backpack left behind and tears on his cheeks.

He’s out of the car in seconds, sweeping his boy up and holding him close. He slips the crutches from his arms and throws them onto the front seat, brushing hair out of Chris’ face and trying to make any words out amongst the tears.

“Shh, Mijo, I’m here. Are you hurt?” He feels the shake his head. “You need to tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help unless I know.” Another head-shake. He focuses his energy on trying to calm his son, knowing there is little he can do otherwise until Chris is ready to talk. He scans the courtyard while stroking his head, seeing no teachers looking the right way. Crying child aside, there seems to be nothing out of the ordinary. He strides to grab Chris’ backpack, shouldering it before heading back to the car.

As Chris’ cries subside slightly, he allows himself to be placed in his car-seat. Eddie rests a hand on his curls, slipping the little red glasses down to his neck to reveal glossy eyes.

“Do you want to talk now, or go home and talk then.”

Chris won’t meet his eyes and Eddie can barely make out the small ‘home’ that he mutters. Eddie places a kiss on the top of his head and buckles him up. As he straps himself into the driver’s seat he glances in the review mirror. Chris’ head is downturned, but Eddie can still make out the tears tracking down his face.

He puts the car into drive, and adds this to the list of messes he has to fix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I was going to give you some good without angsting it up too, right?
> 
> Now, I know everyone is slow to make-up in this fic, but there are a lot of relationships to get through. I also want to show at least some of what would realistically be a very intensive therapy process. Don't worry, as the now-updated tags say, this is angst with a HAPPY ending. 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought and if you're liking it, comments are what keep me going. See you on the flip side,  
> Rose xx


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...A month later and I’ve slunk back out of my whole. Thank you for waiting. I’ve just gone back to two jobs so am now working six days a week and crashing/doing household chores on the seventh. So, thanks for waiting while I got this together.   
> I really struggled with getting started, but I’m hoping you’re satisfied with where we end. Let me know!

Carrying a still subdued Chris through the door on his hip, Eddie hears the soft sound of the cooking channel from his living room.

He topes in the entranceway, setting the schoolbag and crutches against the counter before brushing Chris’ hair off his forehead.

“Are you feeling ready to talk now?”

The little boy shakes his head and buries it further into his father’s shoulder, mumbling words Eddie can’t make out.

“What’s that bud?”

“Want Buck.”

“Alright, okay.”

He makes his way into the living room, seeing Bobby turn his head with a finger to his lips as he enters, face instantly concerned at the picture Eddie presents. He crosses so he’s in-front of the couch, allowing himself to smile as he sees Buck leaning against Bobby, mouth slightly parted in sleep.

“He sacked out around fifteen minutes ago. He’s has a big day.”

It seems that Buck being asleep does not deliver Christopher the same peace it gives Eddie and Bobby, because seeing his best friend not immediately reaching for him has Chris’ crying restart.

“Buck!” He nearly launches himself from Eddie’s hold. “Wake up Buck, please!” The shout and his renewed tears wake up the man he cries for.

Buck startles, blinking rapidly and reaching for Chris’ distressed figure before he can wake fully. Eddie lets him go and be wrapped up by Buck, who looks as confused as Eddie feels.

“Hey, Superman, what’s going on? What are these tears for little man?”

Bobby slips carefully from the couch as Christopher shakes his head, crying harder and curling into Buck’s chest, fist clenched into his shirt.

Bobby waves Eddie out of the room as it becomes clear Chris is not yet ready to talk, Eddie confirming with a nod Buck is alright to stay with Chris.

Bobby’s questions start as soon as they are out of earshot of the living room and Eddie sighs, slumping into one of the dining room chairs.

“I don’t have a clue what happened, he was like this when I picked him up.”

“Was he hurt? Was there a teacher around?”

“Not that I could see. He didn’t say anything until we got here and then he just wanted Buck.”

“Maybe it’s just hit him that Buck got hurt, being away from him all day could have scared him.”

Eddie hums, nodding half-heartedly. That doesn’t seem like his son. “I don’t know. Chris is pretty good with talking about what he feels. We’ve been working on that. Something must have happened to upset him this much. I just don’t know what.”

* * *

Buck held Christopher against his chest, trying to soothe him but desperately wanting to know what it was that had him so upset. He waited until the sobs died into hiccups and he was finally left with a little boy curled silently into him.

“It’s alright Chris. What’s wrong, huh? What’s got you so sad?”

He felt the head against him shake, but no noise was made.

“Something’s happened, bud, and I can’t make you feel better unless I know what it was.”

“You’ll be sad. It’s mean.” A response, if not a helpful one.

“The only thing making me sad is that someone’s made you cry and I can’t fix it.”

“But if, if you’re sad, you might try to leave again.”

Buck sighs, dropping his chin to rest on Christopher’s head. The wound on his arm throbs.

“I’m not leaving again, Chris. I promise. I might get sad but I know how much people would miss me now and that makes me sadder. You can tell me anything. I’m not going to leave.”

“Michael Butcher said something to me after school. It was mean.”

_Michael Butcher_. It takes him a second to place the name.

 _'Michael is in the same grade as Christopher, isn’t he?_ The words medic Nancy Butcher had spoken to Eddie months earlier at the station give a face to the name.

“Michael’s Mum works with me and your Dad, right?”

A sniffle, then a nod. And then he realises. The 118 had responded to the call at his apartment, but Eddie and the others hadn’t been on. The second shift had been. Which meant Nancy Butcher had probably seen everything. Or at least, enough.

“What did he say, Bud? You can tell me, promise.”

Another head shake.

“Please Chris. I won’t leave. I promise you I won’t.”

A pause, then finally, with his head buried further into Buck’s chest, Chris recounts the words of his classmate. He breaks off as his tears start again and Buck just hugs him tighter, shell shocked.

He looks over to the doorway and finds Eddie leaning against the frame, Bobby next to him. Both have tears in their eyes. He takes a breath and tries to collect his thoughts before answering.

“How did that make you feel, when he said that?”

“Sad.”

“Yeah?”

“And scared.”

“Why were you scared, bud?”

“‘Cause you nearly died.”

Buck doesn’t like this. Doesn’t like that a little kid is suffering because he didn’t want to be lonely anymore. Doesn’t like that—”

A hand on his shoulder interrupts his spiral, and he looks up to see Eddie smiling sadly at him, shaking his head. He can see the anger burning deeper, but ignores it for the comfort offered, and the silent attempt of his friend to assure him he’s not at fault.

“Chris, I need you to listen very carefully, alright?” He waits for a nod against his chest before continuing. “I am so sorry I scared you. and I need you to know that I’m not going to try and leave again. It was the wrong thing to do. I know you were scared, but you don’t need to be anymore, alright? I’m here to stay.”

“You promise?”

“I promise I’ll try my best to stay with you, bud. Always.”

He feels Chris start crying again, but this time, he doesn’t try to make it better. He hugs the little boy, and lets him cry.

* * *

Bobby waits until Eddie makes a move for the couch, before tilting his head towards the door, indicating to the father that he is about to leave. Eddie smiles sadly as he sits with his boys, nodding, and Bobby takes that as permission.

He is calm all the way to the door, even manages to close it softly. But as soon as he is outside the house his shoulders tense and rage consumes him. He stalks to his car, slamming that door just because he can and throwing it into reverse.

The drive to the firehouse is tense, and by the time he storms through the open roller doors a rant is steadily boiling away, ready to bubble over. He passes Paramedic Butcher, barely avoiding throwing her up against the wall in favour of finding the second shift’s captain.

He knows he should shelve his anger, but emotion wins over emotion as he throws the door to the Captain’s office open.

“Captain Matthews.” He doesn’t shout. He is very careful not to shout. The other man hears that this is not a social visit, though, and gestures for him to close the door. Bobby resits the urge yet again to slam it.

“What can I do for you, Bobby? Is Buckley doing alright?” It is the only reason the other Captain can imagine for his friend’s distressed state.

“Oh, Buck’s fine, great. But we’re lucky. Lucky we found him, and lucky your damn paramedics can set aside their personal biases to deliver adequate care.” Bobby paces in the face of Jim Matthews calm seated posture.

“Bobby, I’m glad he’s okay, but I must admit you’ve lost me a little bit.”

“I’ve lost you, have I? I was a little lost, too, earlier this afternoon. When Firefighter Diaz’s son came home inconsolable. He’s such a happy kid, even this last week.”

Jim, nods, still not understanding the rage. He knows Christopher, has helped him play pinball while waiting for his father to return from the last call of the shift.

“So imagine my surprise when Christopher is so upset, because one of his classmates, a little asshole by the name of Michael Butcher, has been bad-mouthing His Buck.”

“Michael Butcher? Nancy’s son?” Another little boy he’d met, nice, if lacking the joyful charm of Christopher Diaz.

“The very same. So, imagine my surprise when Christopher finally tells Buck what Michael had told him. That Nancy said he should have died. That Buck was a greedy, money grabber. That saving ‘people like him’ was a waste of her time.”

Jim pales. “Bobby…”

The other captain suddenly realises that he is in a room with a friend, not the woman who has hurt someone he loves. He deflates, and lowers himself into the chair opposite Jim’s desk.

“Bobby, I hope you know I don’t condone that behaviour. No first responder should _ever_ hold the belief self-inflicted injuries are any less worthy of treatment than accidental injuries. As for those disgusting remarks about Buckley’s character, they are simply wrong.”

“They are wrong, Jim.” Bobby jumps in. “But my whole crew has been treating him as if they’re true since he came back from the lawsuit.”

Jim sighs. “I was wondering when you were going to pull your heads out of your asses. I’d hoped it would be before Buckley got more depressed, but I see now that didn’t happen.”

“What the hell were we thinking? The kid had been through hell and I threw him onto the curb without once considering that being abandoned was worse to him than any injury. He just wanted to come home.”

“And you realise that, now.”

“Only because I almost lost him! I still might; God, he’s exhausted all the time from this latest injury, on top of weight loss and depression from our isolation.”

“Bobby, you weren’t thinking straight. But you are now. There’s no point focusing on the should haves, just the wills.”

Bobby drops his head, exhales. “The worst thing about what Christopher heard is that I know it’s what Buck’s been thinking of himself for months.”

Jim stands and rounds his desk, leaning against the front of it so he can rest a hand on the other captain’s shoulder. “All you can do now is work on fixing this. As for Butcher.” Jim straightens. “I’m going to call her in now. You can stay, but only if you keep your head, got it?”

Bobby nods, taking the time to breathe deeply as Jim leaves the office to bring in his subordinate. By the time the door reopens, he feels calmer. Ready to deal with conflict in the mindset of a fire- captain, not a father.

He moves a second chair behind the desk as Jim takes a seat, both facing a confused Nancy Butcher.

Bobby has never had problems with the female paramedic the few times he’d worked with her, finding her competent if a little cold sometimes. That has changed. He allows Jim to take the lead.

“Butcher, I’m going to give you a chance to think about why you might be here. Any ideas?”

She scrunches up her nose, red hair dropping into her eyes as her head ducks in thought.

“No Cap, sorry. We haven’t had any rough calls today. Does Captain Nash need me for something? I thought his whole team was out after the Buckley debacle.”

Bobby tries to tamp down on his anger at her blasé expression.

“I’d advise you to watch your words, Butcher. Evan Buckley’s injury was tragic and a result of gross mistreatment.” Bobby flinches. “His survival is a testament of his resilience and strength as much as the paramedics who treated him.”

“Right.”

Bobby wants to slap the sarcasm from her lips.

“Let me get to the point, Butcher, as I can see you are waiting to be enlightened. Captain Nash has brought to my attention allegations about your attitude towards Buckley’s treatment.”

“What are you talking about? I couldn’t care less about Buckley’s treatment.”

“Exactly” Bobby growls. “Maybe you should be careful not to share those opinions when your son is listening, next time.”

“Nash!” Bobby stops speaking. “Your son repeated to Firefighter Diaz’s son some remarks you made after you treated Buckley. Do you remember those remarks, Butcher?”

“Are you kidding right now? I’m being reprimanded because Buckley’s feelings are hurt by something I said while off duty? This is ridiculous.”

“That isn’t the question I asked you, Butcher. Do you remember those remarks?”

The red-head scoffs. “I assume Michael overheard me talking about Buckley being a man-whore who was so desperate for attention he figured slitting his wrists was the easiest way to get it and guilt his team into talking to him again. I get it, I’ll be more careful next time.”

Bobby slams a fist against the desk, stopped from jumping to his feet only by the firm hand on his shoulder.

“Those disgusting things are not the remarks we were made aware of, though we will be re-visiting that, Butcher.” Jim’s voice is low with barely-masked fury. “I am referring to your opinion that those patients who are feeling so alone and hopeless that they see suicide as the only reprive are unworthy of treatment. I am referring to your opinion that it would have been better that your colleague, a decent, brave, _selfless_ young man with a family that loves him, had died. Because regardless of your personal opinions of Firefighter Buckley, repulsive as they may be, it is your regard towards those patients who are suffering internally that makes you completely unfit for your job. We are a community institution, as we treat everyone as deserving of help. An attitude like yours is not one we can have within our organisation.”

“This is fucking ridiculous! You can’t fire me because some snowflake got his feelings hurt!”

“I’ll advise you to watch your tone there. You are not being fired. You are being ordered to a mandatory service role at the local mental health refuge, as well as attending counselling. You will do this for six months at probationary pay. After six months your position will be reviewed. We’ll see if you have some empathy then. Or, you can choose to quit.”

“Fuck that. I’m done. Wouldn’t want to work somewhere a screw-up like Buckley is welcome, anyway.”

She storms from the room before Jim can stop her. He doesn’t feel any sense of loss.

* * *

Eddie sits curled around Buck and Christopher until his arm starts to go numb. He looks up from his position, head buried against Buck’s shoulder, surprised the younger man is still awake.

“How’re my boys doing?”

Buck smiles, and Christopher moves his own head up. “I’m okay.”

“It’s okay if you’re not, Mijo.”

“I know, I think I am though.”

Eddie smiles conspiringly at Buck. “Well, that’s good. Otherwise we were going to have to order pizza and Buck and I were going to have to cuddle you _allllll_ night!”

It doesn’t get the usual squeal of glee, but Chris looks up and smiles shyly. “Maybe I am still a little but sad, then.”

* * *

Eddie pulls Chris’s door closed after Buck walks out, leaving a crack for light to spill in from the hallway. His son had lasted three slices of pizza, Finding Nemo and half of Finding Dory before jaw-cracking yawns began ruining the best one-liners and Eddie called time.

With Chris asleep and Buck looking more awake than Eddie was used to seeing him recently, the older man knew it was time for a much-needed discussion.

“Hey Buck?” The blonde paused where he’d been making his way to the bathroom, looking back over his shoulder with an eyebrow raised. “Do you mind coming into the living room? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, sure, everything all good?”

Eddie shrugged, already heading to the couch and sitting down, angled so he could face Buck when he took a seat beside him.

“I know you were being strong for Chris today. But I need you to know that everything that woman said, it’s not true. No one thinks that of you. I promise.”

“Eddie, I know you guys are sorry, but that doesn’t mean you don’t think that on some level, I was just being greedy.”

“No, Buck. We were hurt, and maybe at first we thought you were being selfish, but you weren’t. we know that. We do.”

“Eddie…”

“No, Buck.” He leans closer, hands on Buck’s shoulders. “I need you to know this. You are good, Buck. You are so good. You’re the best person I know. You’re selfless and caring. You’re curious and funny. You always put everyone first. Except for that lawsuit, you put you first. And that’s good, Buck. You need to realise you matter and so does your happiness. I want you to be happy, Buck.”

He doesn’t realise that Buck’s own hands have been rising until one is resting on his cheek. He knows where this is going.

“Buck, you don’t need to-”

“No. You want me to be happy. And even if we still have things to work on, I know something that will make me happy. Being with you.” His other hand comes to rest on the back of Eddie’s neck. “Being with you makes me feel good. It makes me feel like all those things you say about me are true. I need that. I need you.”

One of Eddie’s hands drops to Buck’s waist, thumb sweeping over his hip. “Buck, I can’t take advantage of you. I won’t do this because you’re feeling vulnerable and need something stable. I can’t do that to either or us.”

“That’s not what this is, Eddie. This is me realising that being with you is what makes me happiest and that if I’m going to get better having this with you and Chris is the best thing for me. It’s a slice of the future I want. I want this happiness. This isn’t a buffer, or a crutch. This is the first step.”

Eddie leans his head forward. They breathe the same air. Between one breathe and the next, they are kissing. Eddie does not get lost in it. He finds home.

* * *

Nancy Butcher does not go home after walking out of her job. She drives straight to the nearest grocery store. She is careful with her selections; a bottle of orange Gatorade. Diaz hates the stuff, conveniently. A container of antifreeze. She only needs a few ounces, but it only comes in big cartons. Not to worry. She’ll use it eventually.

She knows Buckley is staying at the Diaz residence. Knows its' location from an uncomfortable but necessary carpool one morning. She is silent as she stalks around the side of the house, smiling as she reaches slips through an open window. It’s easy to find the room the two men are curled together in, easier to replace the near-empty Gatorade on Buckley’s side-table with the full one in her hand. She’s out without them stirring. Before they know anyone has been there. She stands by her words. Buckley would be better dead. And now he’s costs her job, he wouldn’t just be better dead. He deserves to be.

* * *

Buck wakes in the middle of the night, smiling happily from Eddie’s arms. Having a near-normal relationship with Eddie has made him feel lighter than he has in months. He makes a mental note to call Maddie in the morning. And Hen. And Chim.

He realises it is his thirst that has woken him and he shifts carefully, reaching for the botte of Gatorade he knows he’d left there before going to sleep. It’s full, and he knows the one he’d left there had been nearing empty. He smiles at Eddie’s thoughtfulness, replacing the drink despite his normal complaints about the sugar-laden concoction. He takes a few swigs, grimacing slightly. It’s orange, not his favourite. Too sweet for his liking. He chugs a little more, setting the now half-full bottle back on the side-table. At least his thirst has been quenched. He settles back into Eddie’s arms, and drifts back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this? An author with an unreliable update schedule has left a cliffhanger? That’s basically cruel! 
> 
> I know this is a bit convoluted, but it's a bit of fun!
> 
> Again, thank you so very much for your patience. With retail at Christmas and going back to swim teaching, I can’t promise when the next update will be but please be reassured, I will never abandon a story. It may take a while, but it will be done.   
> Please let me know what you thought. Are Buck and Eddie ready to take the next step? Will Nancy Butcher succeed where buck himself failed? 
> 
> Until next time,   
> xx Rose


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends.  
> Thank you for your lovely reviews and your patience; both encouraged me to get this chapter out.  
> I had two options with my work schedule- a short chapter today and a short chapter next week, or a long one next week. I figured the earlier post would go down better ;). It's a bit cliché in parts, but I hope you'll enjoy it.  
> As always, please let me know what you think.  
> xx Rose

Eddie takes a moment in the morning to examine the man curled tightly in his arms. Buck’s curls are wayward, soft after being free of gel for a week. There’s saliva pooling against Eddie’s shoulder and he smiles fondly; the younger man doesn’t usually drool in his sleep but Eddie knows it’s probably telling of his exhaustion.

He lays there for a minute longer before hearing the tell-tale sound of Christopher’s crutches in the hall. He presses a kiss to Buck’s temple before extracting himself from the bed, taking care not to disrupt the sleeping man. He slips from the room in silence.

* * *

Christopher can barely hide his giggles as he wobbles in front of Eddie, opening the bedroom door for his father whose hands are full with a tray of pancakes and coffee.

Buck still looks peaceful, curled around a pillow and oblivious to the little boy climbing over to him. Eddie smiles softly as he sets the tray on the side table, sitting beside Buck and gently running a hand over the top of his head. Buck doesn’t awaken immediately, nose twitching and eyebrows crinkling before he finally blinks awake. Within seconds, the smile has dropped off his face.

* * *

His first morning at Eddie’s Buck had woken feeling better than the night before. Refreshed, if still weaker than usual.

This morning was different. Eddie is smiling as he blinks awake, but Buck can’t focus on his face; it swims in-front of him. He blinks, trying to clear the fog from his eyes and raising a hand to wipe at the puddle of drool at his chin.

The hand shakes as he lifts it, and his vision doesn’t clear. Now more awake, he becomes aware of nausea, made only worse by the pancakes he can smell nearby and the shaking of Chris bouncing on the bed.

His eyes still won’t focus, Eddie’s face drifting in and out. Despite the fuzziness, he sees the smile drop from the older man’s face.

“Eds?” His voice sounds slurred even to his own ears and Eddies brow creases further.

“Chris, think we forgot the syrup. Want to go get it?”

“But—”

“Now, bud.”

The tone of Eddie’s voice tells the little boy this is a ‘don’t argue’ station, and he gives Buck a quick hug before scampering off.

The second he’s gone Eddie has his hand on Buck’s forehead.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? You don’t feel warm.”

Buck leans into the hand, comfort from the warmth and Eddie’s affectionate pet-name.

“Dunno, somthin’s no righ’” His tongue is heavy in his mouth. “Tired. Feel sick.”

He’s ready to go back to sleep, knows there he’ll find an escape from the nausea curling in his belly. \

Eddie sighs, moving his hand so it cups his cheek. “It’s the stress. You must have caught something and your immune system is shot. I’ll have Chris take the pancakes into the kitchen and bring you some tea.”

Buck reaches up to catch Eddie’s hand, missing a few times before securing it in his grip.

“Jus wan you.”

Eddie’s smile returns. “I’ll be back. Rest for now.”

Buck doesn’t have to be told twice. He closes his eyes.

* * *

Eddie reassures Christopher that Buck is just sleepy, setting him up in front of a movie with his pancakes and a kiss on the cheek. He makes tea and bring a thermometer and some toast back into the bedroom with him.

Buck’s already breathing deeply, more drool pooling on the pillow. Eddie lets him sleep as long as possible, tidying the room and gently sticking the thermometer between lax lips as Buck sleeps on; still doesn’t have a fever, Eddie notes. With everything ready Eddie finally moves to reawaken Buck, squeezing his cheek gently and calling his name.

He wakes just as slowly as last time, blinking slowly with glazed eyes that don’t quite meet Eddie’s own.

“You with me again?”

Buck scrunches his eyebrows. “‘gain?” The worry in Eddie grows with both the question and the slur it is spoken with.

“Yeah Buck, again. I woke you up half an hour ago. With Chris and pancakes, yeah?”

Buck nods, but Eddie can tell he isn’t really tracking. He smacks his lips. “We need to ge ready fa work?”

“No, Buck. You’re hurt, we both have some time off, remember?”

Buck glances at his arm.

“That’s right, your arm. How are you feeling?”

“Dunno. Thirsty, fuzzy.”

Eddie moves in, propping pillows up and securing an arm around Buck’s slim shoulders.

Buck’s sick from stress. He’s dehydrated because he’s sick. He’s confused because he’d dehydrated. Eddie breathes.

“I can fix the thirsty. Come on, up we go.”

He slowly raises Buck into a sitting position, pushing down yet more worry when Buck lists to the side and groans, eyes squeezing shut.

“You alright?”

A pause. “Yeah.” His eyes open. “Drink?”

Eddie slides so Buck is leaning against him, grabbing the tea-cup as he does. He raises it to Buck’s lips, but after a sip he is turning away.

“Too hot.” He mumbles.

Eddie sets the cup aside to cool, reaching instead for the half-empty bottle of Gatorade. He cracks the lid, wincing at the sickly-sweet smell coming off it.

“Here, try this. Nice and cool, yeah?” Buck smiles as he accepts the drink, taking a few mouthfuls before smacking his lips. “Don’t know how you can stomach that stuff.” Eddie chuckles, re-capping the bottle and setting it aside.

“Taste’s like lollies.” Eddie smiles again. This man and his childlike innocence. He wonders how he could have ever hurt him.

“I bet it does. Ready to try some toast?”

Buck blanches, tucking his head into Eddie’s shoulder.

“Come on Ev, just a little. You need to get your strength back up.”

“One bite.”

He’s agreeing and sounding a little more lucid. Eddie takes it as a win.

By the time he’s coaxed Buck into eating the rest of the slice, the younger man has paled further and it most of the way back to sleep.

Eddie lowers him back down, smoothing his hair and placing a dry kiss on his forehead.

He makes sure Chris is occupied in the living room; pancakes long finished but engrossed in the lego he’s picked up with Brave playing in the background.

He takes a moment to panic, worst case scenario’s running around his mind. He takes a deep breath.

Focus. Prioritise. Be rational. All the things he’s good at.

First thing’s first—call Bobby. He doesn’t need the whole team worried, but they should all know and Bobby will be both good back-up and a point of communication. It helps he’s the only one beside Eddie who has really started to make progress with his relationship with Buck.

The Captain picks up on the first ring.

“Eddie, what can I do for you? I wasn’t expecting you to call so early.”

He cuts right to the chase. “Buck’s sick.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t wake up properly, he’s having trouble focusing and he’s nauseas. But he doesn’t have a fever or anything. I think he’s probably just run down and dehydrated, but, I don’t know Bobby, I’m worried.”

The older man sighs on the other end. “If he doesn’t have a fever that’s probably it. I’ll head over in a bit, anyway, I’ll bring some food. Want me to let the others know?”

“Yeah. Tell them not to come, but they’ll want to be in the loop. I’ll—”

He hears a crash from down the hall, too big to be Christopher.

Evidently, Bobby hears it too. “Eddie?”

“I gotta go, Bobby, I’ll call you later.”

He hangs up as Bobby responds, skidding down the hall and telling Chris to stay put from where he has started to rise.

It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to deduce what has happened in Eddie’s bedroom. Buck is on the floor, a few feet from the bathroom door. The sheets are tangled around his feet, the Gatorade bottle and lamp both broken on the floor. The leaking sports drink isn’t the worst thing on Eddie’s floor. Buck’s is heaving weakly from his slumped position, lacking the strength to even hold his head up. It takes Eddie only a second to hear that amongst the hacking Buck is choking, likely on the vomit his face is lying in.

Eddie immediately drops to his knees, grabbing Buck’s chest and propping up so the sick runs out of his mouth instead of pooling in it. He smooths a hand across Buck’s clammy forehead, soothing him as the heaving ends and the hacking abates. Eddie moves his hand to Buck’s forehead, holding it up from where it’s dropped to his chest in an attempt to open up his airways.

Slowly, Eddie stops hearing a crackling as Buck inhales and his blue eyes peel open. It takes only a second for the tears to start.

“Shh, shh, I know, sweetheart, I know. Gonna sit here for a minute then get you clean and tucked in bed. Shh, it’s alright.”

Buck’s tears don’t slow and Eddie holds him closer, stroking his flank.

“I know you feel bad sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s all okay.”

“‘S’not.”

“It is, I know it doesn’t feel like it but it is. I’m going to make it better.”

“Trus’ you.”

“That’s right, and I trust you. We have each other’s backs, yeah?”

“Shoulda always trus’ed you. Nev’r shoulda gotten lawyer.”

There’s a pain in Eddie’s chest as he holds Buck closer, pressing a kiss to the non-vomit covered side of his face.

“It’s all in the past, Buck, all done now. Don’t worry about that now. I love you, and we’re here together. I know you feel bad right now but I promise it’s all okay.”

Slowly, the sobs abate, and Eddie can feel Buck begin to drift against him despite the discomfort he must be in.

Loathing to do it, Eddie jostles him gently. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up. just hold onto me.”

Buck moans but listens, gripping his shoulders as Eddie sweeps them to their feet. For a second, Eddie is convinced Buck is going to vomit or pass out or both, but after a few seconds he seems steady and Eddie leads them to the en-suit.

Eddie lowers Buck onto the closed toilet seat, stripping him carefully as he starts the shower. It certainly isn’t the way he pictured the first time he took off Buck’s clothes, but now isn’t the time to think like that.

The shower is quick and efficient, Buck slowly becoming more lucid under the warm water. By the time he is towelling Buck dry the younger man is flushing, out of embarrassment, Eddie assumes, he’s still been checking for a fever every so often.

“Hey.” He sits Buck back on the toilet seen, now clean and dry and wrapped in a fresh towel. “How are you feeling?”

Buck smacks his lips, eyes holding Eddie’s gaze for the first time since they’d gone to bed the night before. “Weird. Somethin’s wrong Ed.”

“I know. Bobby’s bringing over food, later. If you aren’t doing an better by then I’ll leave Chris with him and we’ll go to urgent care, alright?”

It’s a testament to how bad he’s feeling that Buck just nods.

“I’m going to get you some new clothes, okay? Then I’ll put you in the spare room while I clean ours?”

Eddie notices the slip of ours too late and runs with it, hoping Buck doesn’t examine it too closely.

He figures he’s gotten away with it when Buck nods, realises he hasn’t when Buck’s lips twitch and he murmurs ‘ours’.

Eddie will examine the connotations of that when he’s not half out of his mind with worry.

* * *

Bobby nervously messages their group chat with the information he’s gotten from Eddie. He leaves out the part where their conversation got cut short by an ominous sounding crash and that he hasn’t heard from him since.

Everyone offers to visit, to bring food and love and apologies. Bobby politely declines on behalf of the boys. He knows that the last thing they should do to reconcile with Buck is to ambush him while he’s down. Again.

He busies himself cooking, soup for Buck and chicken casserole for the rest of them. Three hours later he’s packing containers and loading them into the car, Athena sliding into the driver’s seat with a look that tells Bobby he shouldn’t bother trying to stop her coming.

The drive is slow even at two in the afternoon; LA traffic only has two levels, bad and awful.

Eddie yells that the door is open as Bobby raises a fist to knock, obviously having heard the rumble of Bobby’s car as it parked.

The fire captain finds Christopher first, drawing at the kitchen table. As Bobby and Athena unload their bounty the little boy drops his pencils, looking up.

“Are you here to take care of my Buck?”

Bobby smiles. “Yeah bud. Wouldn’t want to subject him to your Daddy’s cooking, now would we?”

Chris giggles. “Daddy said Buck is really tired still and that’s why he’s sick.”

“Looks like it bud, but we’ll get him better in no time. Athena and I are going to check on him, you still all good here?”

Chris nods and Bobby ruffles his hair, moving down the hall.

The first stop, Eddie’s room, reveals a striped bed and the smell of carpet cleaner. Bobby takes note of Buck’s watch on one side table and the book Eddie had been reading at the station on the other with a smile. At least out of the dark has come a light the team has seen coming from space.

The trip to the guest room yields better results.

There’s a plastic-lined bin next to the bed, water and an empty tea-cup on the side table.

Buck is propped against Eddie’s chest, the older man thumbing his forehead in a drowsy haze.

Bobby knocks on the doorframe as Athena steps in around him.

As Eddie looks up Athena sits on the bed next to him, holding Buck’s hand in her two.

“How’s he doing?”

Eddie curls his free arm around Buck’s chest, letting his head drop atop Buck’s. “Not much change. He’s been out of it most of the day, thrown up a few times. I’m worried, Bobby. He’s too confused given there’s no temperature. He’s slurring, drooling. He shouldn’t still be this weak.”

Bobby nods. He’d thought the same thing. Any infection that could attack Buck’s weakened immune system would present with a fever.

“We’ll give it another few hours, try and get some food and fluids into him. We’ll stay, but I wonder whether you should get your Abuela or Carla to get Chris.”

“Yeah, I already asked. Abuela is going to take him for the night, she should be here in the next hour.”

“Buck, honey?” Athena interrupts whatever Bobby was going to reply with. “You awake baby?”

Buck’s eyebrow is twitching Athena squeezes his hand. “Bobby brought you some soup, want to try some?”

Buck’s hand twitches back in Athena’s, eyebrow jumping again. He grunts, as if unhappy at being dragged from sleep.

Eddie smiles, jumping in. “Come on Ev, I know you love Bobby’s cooking. Don’t let me eat it all.”

This time, Buck’s whole arm jumps, then his other. Between one moment and the next Eddie realises that something is badly wrong.

Buck grunts again as his arm keeps jolting, eyelids fluttering to reveal eyes rolled-back.

Eddie and Athena are quick to move, lowering Buck’s body and removing the sheets and pillows from around him. The twitching progresses into a full-blown seizure and Bobby is reaching for his phone as Eddie tries to process what is happening. 

Eddie can hear an operator in the background, assuring Bobby help is coming. But all Eddie can see is the man he loves convulsing. It can’t come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate me? Let me know!  
> I love all comments- long, short, constructive or glowing. Please let me know what you thought.   
> Also thought I'd reassure you- Buck's depression and the remaining relationships that need mending are not forgotten, they are just temporarily not the main focus of the story.  
> Until next week,   
> Rose xx


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this to be out faster than it was. I wanted it to be longer than it was. But I hope you like it anyway.  
> xxRose

Buck vomits two and a half minutes after the operator assures Bobby help was coming. Athena remains the level-headed one of the bunch, supporting his spasming head and ordering Eddie to get his torso.

In unison they roll him. Watery vomit travels down his cheek, trailing like a tear. Before Eddie has time to process, to even wonder if the shaking is ever going to stop, footsteps thunder in the hallway.

They gently push the crowd aside, working to get the seizure under control and Buck loaded without the interference of trained if distracted family. As they leave, Bobby races out the door behind the EMTs, leaving Eddie hovering over a sweat and vomit covered bed, Athena by his side.

“Daddy?” A small, teary voice from the hall breaks him from his stupor and he looks up, seeing a red-faced Christopher peering around the doorframe.

He’s seen everything.

“Oh, Mijo.”

Eddie sweeps the little boy into his arms, tucking his head into his shoulder and letting them cry together. 

“Is Bucky dying again?”

Eddie can’t lie to him. He hugs Chris tighter.

* * *

Eddie leaves a reluctant with Christopher with his Abuela, having given her half an explanation while pulling on a clean pair of pants.

He doesn’t speak to Athena as she drives them both to the hospital, knuckles gripped tight on the steering wheel and an unconscious glance at her phone in the console every few minutes.

She pulls into the carpark slowly, parks calmly. But her hand rests atop Eddie’s arm before he can open the door.

“He’s going to be okay, Eddie. This is Buck. Not even he can kill him.”

It’s not funny, but it gives Eddie the hope he hadn’t been able to give even his own son.

* * *

Three hours later Eddie sits by Buck’s bedside with a crick in his neck and only vague reassurances from the doctors. Strict instructions not to leave him alone and alert the staff as soon as he awakens. No answers. 

Eddie’s close to drifting off when he sees Buck’s face twitch.

For a terrifying moment, Eddie thinks it’s another seizure. The panic is replaced with a small smile as the twitch in Buck’s nose turns into a flutter of his eyes as they peel open. Eddie presses the call button as he stands and hovers so he’s in Buck’s line of sight, running a gentle hand through hair.

“Hey Ev, you’re alright. Got a bit sick but you’re in the hospital and you’re going to be fine.”

“Eds?”

“Yeah Ev, it’s me. Just relax, Doc is on her way.”

Said Doctor enters as Eddie speaks, walking briskly over to the bed.

“Mr Buckley, can you hear me?”

Buck nods. “Happen’?”

“We were hoping you could tell us Mr Buckley. How exactly did you end up with anti-freeze in your system? Enough to kill you twice over?”

Eddie reels. He feels his knees go weak, grabs the bed to make sure he doesn’t go down.

“Wah’?”

There is genuine confusion in Buck’s eyes and it throws Eddie.

“Anti-freze, Mr Buckley. It is the most common cause of Ethylene glycol poisoning, and I can’t see another way you’d have ingested that much. Our records say you were recently hospitalized for a suicide attempt. So I’ll ask you again, can you tell us how it got into your system?”

Buck still looks confused. More than that, he looks hurt. Eddie stabilises.

“I don’t like what you’re implying, Doctor.”

She huffs, turning a derisive gaze to Eddie. “I’m not implying anything. I am asking Mr Buckley if he needs to be wasting space in the intensive care unit or if I should immediately move him to the psychiatry ward for evaluation.”

Buck bypasses straight past the doctor, looking at Eddie with big blue eyes. “I din’n Eddie, I swear, I swear. It an accident, won’ do it ‘gain.” The mania fades from his eyes and he swivels, fixing a confident if hazy gaze on the doctor. “I didn’t.”

Eddie watches the change in the doctor’s demeanour as she see’s what Eddie has known since Buck’s strangled “what”. He’s telling the truth.

Flustered, the doctor presses the call button. “Gentlemen, I’m very sorry to have made assumptions. If you are guaranteeing me that you did not voluntarily ingest the antifreeze, I will need to call the police and begin an investigation.”

Buck, already fighting to stay awake, managed to sharpen his gaze. “Promise.”

* * *

Athena takes a moment to stand at the door and watch her boys before she makes her presence known.

Christopher is curled into Eddie’s chest, playing drowsily with the necklace poking out of his shirt with eyes more closed than open. Eddie has one arm wrapped securely around his son, the other snaking under the oxygen tube leading to Buck’s nose so his hand can rest atop the blonde’s head. He doesn’t seem to hear her at the door, absentmindedly brushing loose curls off Buck’s forehead.

Buck sleeps away, chest at least rising and falling steadily. Aside from the fact he’s not seizing he’s looking no better than the night before.

She’d taken a few hours to process after getting the call from the hospital; waited until morning light was well on its way through the windows before making the journey down to interview Buck.

She finally makes her presence known, walking with heavy steps to stand beside Eddie.

He’s exhausted. She can see it in the bags under red eyes as he turns to look at her. She hands over the coffee she’s grateful to have had the foresight to buy him.

“Thanks.”

“Of course. How’re our boys doing?”

Eddie finally manages half a smile, resting his chin atop Chris’ head. “Abuela dropped this one in half an hour ago for quick visit.” The smile quickly fades. “They’ve got Buck on anticonvulsants for the seizures, they’re monitoring his airway but it seems like he’s holing his own on that front. The other drip is ethanol and fomepizole, it’ll neutralise the ethylene. They have him on dialysis to take the strain off his kidneys but they aren’t too worried about that. After the last week I have no idea how.”

The tremor in his voice is minute. Athena doesn’t mention it.

“I intercepted the call from the hospital after you messaged me last night. I’ll be heading the investigation. If Buck didn’t take the antifreeze intentionally, there’s no way this was an accident. He was poisoned.”

“It was Nancy Butcher.”

He says it with such conviction it takes a second before she thinks to question it.

“Eddie, that’s a serious accusation. I’ll look into all avenues but it doesn’t seem likely that…”

“No. Bobby told me happened with her at the station. She’s got a reason to be mad. And she’s the only one. She knows Buck was staying with me. It was her.”

She knows arguing with him will get her nowhere. She has no other leads.

She sighs, places a kiss atop Buck’s sleeping face and rests a hand on Eddie’s cheek.

“I’ll have a look, Eddie, but only a look. And you stay out of it.”

He won’t meet her eyes.

“Eddie, for Buck. You will _stay out of it_.”

He nods.

“Your house is a crime scene for the moment. We’re collecting samples and clearing out anything the antifreeze could have gotten into. Your water supply is safe but I’ve got my crews throwing out all your food and drinks to be on the safe side. Bobby will drop groceries in before you get home, alright?”

Eddie hadn’t even thought that far. “Thank you, Athena. Really.”

She manages a smile.

“Look after our boy.”

* * *

“He can go home.”

“What?” Eddie tries to keep his voice down; Buck is dozing next to him, but the doctor seems to be out of his mind.

“I know you’re worried, but he finished his dialysis and his other treatment. Given he has a paramedic that can watch him, I don’t need to keep him here. It’s just going to stress him and the only thing he needs right now is rest.”

He hates to admit that’s true. After the doctor’s morning visit Buck had managed half an hour of wakefulness in the following eight hours. He’d spent most of it verging on hyperventilation, eyes darting around the room and constantly making sure someone was with him. Eddie had tried to keep him calm, soothing his clammy forehead and keeping a steady grip on his hand but he’d been glad to see him slip back to sleep.

“But his kidneys were still damaged after his injury, what about that?” There’s no heat to his protest.

“Eddie, you know the signs. If you don’t need to bring him in before, we’ll get him back in two days to check up on everything and put him through around of dialysis if he needs it. But right now, what he needs it to be home.”

“I know.” He settles. “I know.”

The doctor smiles. “I’ve signed his discharge and a nurse will be in soon with a wheelchair and some information for you. I’m confident in the care you can provide.”

“Thanks.” Eddie manages to express his gratitude as he stands.

Christopher is long gone, having gone to school after his early morning visit. Eddie silently gets together the few belongings they’d managed to accumulate in eighteen hours. He takes the clean hoodie and sweats Athena had brought before moving to Buck’s sleeping form.

He’s looking marginally better than the morning, pale but not translucent; glowing but not drenched with sweat. He rests a hand on Bucks shoulder.

“Buck, wake up Buck.”

He repeats himself a few times, adding a squeeze to the shoulder before Buck’s eyes crack open.

“Hey Ev. Ready to blow this joint?”

The words wake Buck up quickly, a smile breaking across his face as he begins to try and get up.

“Woah, woah. Take it easy. I’ll help you, alright?”

Buck smiles, softer this time. It’s a smile Eddie’s only seen a few times over the last few days. It’s the way he smiles at Maddy, at Chris. At Bobby when the older man is cooking and has his back to the younger man. He smiles that way to people he loves, Eddie realises. The realisation silences him and he has to look away.

He picks up the pants and takes a breath.

“Alright, swing your legs over here.”

Eddie crouches and feeds Buck’s cold feet through the pants. He helps wriggle them up his hips and then rolls thick socks over his feet. He pulls the gown off, running a hand up and down Buck’s too thin chest when goosebumps appear.

“Arms now.”

He slips a long shirt over his head, followed by the hoodie.

His finishes with a hand on Buck’s cheek and a kiss to his forehead. The actions say the same as Buck's smile. They say what neither can yet express in words.

* * *

Christopher is waiting at home for them with Carla when the stumble through the door.

Buck is as exhausted as he’d been his first day out of hospital following his arm, drooping where he’s balanced on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Bucky!”

The man in question attempts to brighten for the little boy, managing a smile and a one-armed hug.

“Alright, you got to stay up for Buck, but now you need to do teeth and get ready for bed. Say goodnight to Buck and Carla, okay?”

Chris knows better than to argue tonight, giving gentler hugs to all the adults and scampering down the hall to the bathroom.

As soon as he’s gone Buck stops pretending to be anything other than completely zonked, pulling Eddie over to the couch and falling into it.

“Jus’ gonna sleep here tonight Eds.”

Eddie laughs and ruffles his hair.

“Well, you can nap here while I make some dinner. Then you’ll eat that dinner and come to bed with me.”

Buck groans and tips sideways, burying himself in cushions. “Mean.”

Carla’s laughter reminds Eddie she’s there and he turns to her.

“Thank you again for keeping—”

“Boy, if you finish that sentence. My friends need me, I’m here.”

Eddie doesn’t bother trying to thank her again, and in the comfort of his own home, he allows himself to hug her.

She squeezes him for a second before pulling back.

“Go sit with your boy. I’ll reheat the soup Bobby made and bring it in, then I’ll head off.” She raises a hand. “And don’t you argue, Eddie Diaz.”

Eddie smiles and eases his way next to Buck, chuckling as he snuffles and grunts, shifting until he’s comfortable on Eddie’s chest.

Eddie sinks into the moment.

A week ago, Buck was dying, alone in his apartment thinking no one would care. A day ago, Buck was dying, in a hospital as doctor’s tried to counteract fucking _antifreeze_ poisoning. Eddie strokes a hand across Buck’s hair.

A week ago, he didn’t know he’d have this. So caught up in hurt and petty grudges he’d almost missed this. Buck may be sick, but Eddie could see their future clearly.

Living together. Raising Chris. Maybe another kid. Nothing felt too far off with Buck in his arms.

“Soup’s up.”

Eddie thanks her and reaches for the bowls, jostling Buck with his shoulder as he does so.

The home aide backs up as the boys begin to eat. She lets herself out. 

* * *

Eddie is woken in the morning as the bed dips. He blinks his eyes open, not surprised to see his son crawling over the coves as best his legs will allow. He smiles, pulling Buck closer to his chest with one arm, opening the other so Chris can dive into it.

He pulls his boys close, watching as Buck joins them in the land of the living.

“What are you doin’ her superman?”

“Bobby is here.” Chris giggles and stutters over his words, burrowing deeper into the bed even as Buck and Eddie instinctively move to get up. “I let him in and he said to say he was here.”

Eddie finally glances at the clock, surprised to see that he’s slept until nine-thirty for the first time since before he’d enlisted. He groans, swinging out of the bed. He lifts Chris with him, swooping him into a hug before fling him back onto the bed with Buck.

“Alright, thanks Mijo. I’ll go see Bobby but you’re in charge of getting Buck out of bed. Got it?”

Both his boys laugh and Chris nods.

Eddie throws a shirt over his bare chest, tying up the drawstring on his pants as he walks down the hall.

He runs a hand through his hair as he enters the kitchen, grateful to see Bobby has started a pot of coffee next to the stove he’s cooking at.

“Morning.”

It’s strained, by the captain manages a smile in return. “Figured you wouldn’t mind me making myself at home in the kitchen if you got some coffee out of it.”

Eddie accepts the cup he offers with a nod of gratitude.

“I sent you a message around eight but when you didn’t respond I, ah, got worried.”

He can see the shame Bobby tries to hide at the admission, and any sense of intrusion he may have felt at having his captain up in his kitchen before he was disappears.

“I get it Bobby. You’re welcome anytime.” He means it. He sips at the coffee. “Any word from Athena?”

Bobby’s expression darkens. “Yeah, it’s part of why I’m here. You might want to get Buck for this. He up?”

As if in answer the younger firefighter comes shuffling down the hall, hand in hand with Chris.

For a moment Eddie forgets all the bad in the world as he takes in Evan and his bedhead, clutching his son’s tiny hand and blinking sleep from his eyes. For a moment, his heart is full of love and hope.

He hurries to support Buck over to the chair, even if he doesn’t need to. He drops a kiss to his lips, ignoring the grin he knows is on Bobby’s face.

“Daddy and Buck kiss _all the time_ now Cap. And they sleep in the same bed too.”

The moment is broken as Bobby and Buck laugh, Eddie letting a smile slip across his own face.

“Alrighty troublemaker. I’m going to take some of the eggs and bacon Bobby has made into the living room and you’re going to plant you there with some cartoons for a little while?”

The little boy nods and leads the way out of the kitchen. Eddie grabs a plate and follows him out, glancing over his shoulder.

“I’ll be right back.”

* * *

Buck cups cold hands around the cup Bobby slides over to him.

“How you doing son?”

He shrugs. Since realising he was sick, since realising something was badly wrong, he’s barely had a second to breathe, let alone think. He shudders.

“I don’t know. I finally started feeling like everything was going to be okay and the suddenly I felt worse than I ever have and someone’s tried to kill me. I just—I don’t know.”

Bobby sits with his own mug. “That seems fair.”

“It does?”

“Course it does. You’ve been through a lot of trauma in a short amount of time. It’s okay if you haven’t processed that all.”

“Exactly.”

Buck startles, settling as Eddie sits beside him and interlaces their hands.

“Now, what has Athena found?”

He’s grateful for Eddie’s interruption; as much as he wants to find out what’s going on he also needs more strength before attempting another overwhelmingly emotional conversation.

“You were right, Eddie.”

“What?”

“Nancy Butcher. Athena sent officers over to question her and she immediately confessed. Seemed to think the police would agree murdering a firefighter was for the greater good. Her prints match some lifted off your window sills, and she admitted to putting antifreeze into several Gatorade bottles. Her testimony lined up with the samples the labs got.”

“Just like that?” Buck grips the tabletop and Eddie’s hand. It feels too easy.

“Just like that.”

“But, what if it wasn’t her. What if—”

“No what ifs, Buck. This isn’t a murder mystery. The police are good at their jobs. They did what they’re paid for. We got lucky Eddie’s hunch was right. It’s over.”

Buck doesn’t know why tears build behind his eyes. But they do, and before he can stop them the fall and he’s gathered in Eddie’s arms. He allows himself to feel the fear that’s been boiling for days and he cries.

Several minutes pass before the tears stop. The shakes don’t.

Eddie pulls back as Bobby sets food down in front of them.

“I’ll take Christopher to school. Carla said he has a half day so he won’t be late.”

Buck’s glad Bobby’s thought of that because he knows neither he or Eddie had.

“Get some rest, both of you. I’ll drop him home after a play date and dinner with Harry. And a heads up—you aren’t keeping Maddie and Chim away another day. I told them to give you the morning. But Buck, they love you. They want to talk.”

Buck nods. He misses his friends and sister, beneath the hurt. Another brush with death has reminded him the former is more important than the latter.

Bobby pulls him into a hug then stands.

“I’ll get Christopher ready and off. You two take care of yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hope you liked it and that in some way it was worth the wait. Hoping to get the next one out sooner rather than later. Please let me know what you thought and what you want to see!  
> xx Rose


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter, but certainly important! Wanted to get something out for ya'll. Hope you like it.  
> Warnings for discussions of sexual assault.

“Would you like another blanket?”

Buck looks further into his lap, at the blanket already wrapped around his legs.

The therapist- Julia- had obviously noticed his shivering. A combination of his low body weight, recent illness and nerves, no doubt.

He nods, managing a small smile as she drapes it over his shoulders.

For a moment, she hovers and he tenses, but she quickly sits and he lets himself exhale.

“That’s better. No use trying to talk when you’re focusing on how cold you are.”

He nods.

“Now, Buck, I know you’re here voluntarily. But even if you were someone here for mandatory counselling, you still seem very closed off. Shall we start there?”

“Where?”

“With why you’re so uncomfortable in a therapist’s office. You’ve only had one session in your time at the LAFD, it’s surprising, given your work history.”

“I, ah, I didn’t have much luck with that therapist. Decided not to go back so I didn’t screw it up again.”

“What do you mean when you say you didn’t have much luck? That you screwed up?”

“Oh.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “I slept with her during the session. Not my finest moment.”

He looks up just in time to catch the horrified expression on her face before she schools it. He sighs.

“I understand if you’d rather I find another therapist.”

“No Buck, that’s not what surprised me. I need you to listen to me very carefully for a second, okay?”

He nods.

“Buck, that was sexual assault, it—”

“What? No, she came onto me! I know it was wrong but I didn’t force her or anything! You have to believe me.”

“No, Buck, you’ve misunderstood me, she assaulted you. It’s against the law for someone like a therapist, to have sex with someone they have power over. If we’re talking in legal terms, she raped you.”

“No. You’re wrong. I liked it.”

“Okay, you say you liked it, but did you want it?”

“I—”

“Did you want it?”

“I mean, I’d just watch someone die. I wouldn’t say it was the first thing on my mind.” He pauses. “But you don’t know me, I was kind of a man whore back then. Slept with anything on legs. It’s no surprise no one stuck around. She just saw the same thing everyone did. That’s not her fault.”

“Buck, that is not true. It is her fault. I think this is something we need to come back to you. And your belief that you don’t deserve anyone sticking around, we’re revisiting that too, okay?”

He nods. Looks back down and sinks into blankets like they’re shields.

“Let’s move to something a little more recent. You said you saw your sister this morning and that it had been a while since you’d spoken?”

“Ah, yeah, it’d been a while. I’d kind of iced her out recently.”

“And why was that?”

“You know why I’m here, right?”

“I have your department records; I know about the ladder truck incident and your subsequent embolism. I know you were on the pier during the Santa Monica Tsunami. I know you filed a wrongful termination lawsuit and subsequently withdrew it. I know you went back to work at the firehouse you tried to sue. I know you recently attempted suicide and I know you were just the victim of an attempted murder. But they’re just facts, Buck. They’re words in a file. I don’t know any more than the fact there is an incredibly strong young man in front of me who has done a very brave thing by committing to therapy.”

Buck takes a moment. Scrunches the blanket between his fingers. Exhales.

“You ever have a group of people, and without you realising it, without you really even letting it happen, they become your family?”

He doesn’t pause and she doesn’t try to answer.

“That’s the 118. They took me in when I was some stupid kid and the loved me, even when I probably didn’t deserve it. After my accident, and the lawsuit, I didn’t have them. I needed them. And it made me realise hat they didn’t need me. There was so much hurt everywhere and I just—needed them. I didn’t mean to kill myself. That; that wasn’t what that was. Not at the start. I just cut myself. It was accidental. But the longer I thought about it, the easier letting go seemed. It seemed easier for everyone if Buck the Fuck Up just, I don’t know, stopped being. When I woke up, I was stuck with all these things I’d accepted I wouldn’t have to confront.”

This time he does pause. She still doesn’t interrupt.

“I was angry. I wanted to forgive them, because they’d finally begun to realise how much they’d hurt me just by not being there. But I couldn’t. Not straight away. But I’ve realised in the last few days that I’m so much happier with forgiveness than anger. And no matter who was in the right, I wanted them all back.”

“So, you spoke with them.”

“Yeah. Eddie and I are kind of comfortable at the moment. Bobby, there’s more to work out with him but I’m getting there—we’re getting there. Chim and Hen, my sister—it was different with them. They didn’t have as many reasons to be angry so it hurt more that they were. I don’t know if that makes any sense. But yeah, I saw them today. We’re getting there. It’s definitely easier to be forgive then be angry with them.”

“I hope you realise how incredible it is that you can do that, Buck. Most people take a long time to come to that place within themselves. Your introspection is a gift. Now, we’re pretty much out of time today, but you’ve done some really great work. There’s a couple of things I’d like you to think about over the next twenty-four hours. You’ve spoken about your friends and family quite highly, but with regards to yourself, you’re often putting yourself down and reiterating your failures. Before tomorrow, I want you to consciously catch your negative thoughts. Write them down. See how many you notice between now and then. I know you’re staying with Eddie at the moment, would you be comfortable with me asking him to help you with that?”

“I…I guess so. You’d talk to him?”

“Of course. We’re working on small steps, Buck. It’s not a conversation you’re ready to have with him yet and that’s alright. One day, it’s not even going to be an issue. But that’s not today.”

Buck allows himself to smile, and nods.

* * *

Eddie isn’t sure what to think when Buck comes out of his therapist’s office, looking like wrecked and telling Eddie his therapist would like to speak with him.

He knocks as he pushes the door open and the therapist looks up at him with a smile from where she stands folding blankets. Eddie smiles back, as much at the knowledge Buck had felt comfortable enough to self-soothe with the warmth of blankets as he does at home. 

“Buck said you wanted to see me, Miss—”

“Julia, is fine. I just wanted to ask for your assistance with Buck’s assignment over the next day. I’ve asked he try to actively notice and call out his negative self-talk; if he speaks as lowly about himself in regular life as he has today I’ll think you’d both be surprised how many he catches. I want him to write them down so we can address some of the commonalities, but I think, particularly at first, he’s going to need some help calling them out. Would you be willing to help.”

“Of course.”

“I need you to really focus; any little put downs matter. Call them out, correct him where you can.”

“I will.”

Julia smiles. “I’ll see you both tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow.”

* * *

Buck dozes in the car on the way back, never quite slipping all the way to sleep despite the silence Eddie maintains. As he eases into the driveway Eddie puts one hand on Buck’s knee, smiling softly as Buck links blearily back to awareness.

“Home.”

He shuts off the car and gets ready to open the door when Buck’s hand catches his wrist.

“Buck?”

“Chris will be home by now, won’t he?”

“Ah, I think so. Bobby said they had an early dinner and they’re waiting inside with leftovers for us.”

“Before we go inside, I need to ask something. And you have to tell me the truth, okay?”

“Of course, Buck.”

“If…if someone were to…if someone had, ah, slept with—consensually! If someone had consensually slept with their therapist, that would be, that would be fine, right? Like, they didn’t say no and they fucked during a session, that would be fine, right?”

Eddie physically feels the blood drain from his face as Buck stumbles through his question, his _confession_. Because that is what this is, really. A confession.

“Buck, if that bitch—if _Julia_ —”

“No! Not her, it wasn’t her. Just, it would be fine wouldn’t it? Hypothetically?”

Whoever has hurt Buck has not done so in the last few hours. Without an outlet for his anger Eddie focuses on letting it drain. He can’t afford to say the wrong thing. He exhales deeply, taking the Buck’s hand off his wrist and grasping it firmly.

“No, Ev. That wouldn’t be fine. That would be assault.”

He expects push back. He expects denial. He doesn’t expect Buck to start sobbing.

“Hey, hey, come here Ev, it’s alright. It’s okay.”

He does his best to reach over the console and hold the other man. He wasn’t sure what he expected to come from Buck’s therapy. But this wasn’t it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always hated how the show dealt with Buck's first therapist. Hope this does a better job. Please let me know what you thought!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was… unexpected in many ways. It took me a long time to write not much but it felt right.
> 
> I’m sorry it took so long for not much, but I really hope you enjoy it. As always, R&R.   
> xx Rose

Buck calms down faster than Eddie expects, leaning back to his side of the car with a sniff and hand across his eyes.

“It didn’t feel real until you said it. When… when Julia said it I thought she just wanted to make me feel better. But, you wouldn’t lie to me. You wouldn’t.”

Eddie hears the question. “No, Buck. I wouldn’t.”

“I think I’m good, for now. I know I’ll probably talk about that all later with Julia but for now I just want to watch movies with Chris.”

For once, Eddie doesn’t feel like he’s being shut out. The truth is in front of him and he can see it.

“Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

Buck sits curled around a cup of coffee after his second day of therapy, Eddie on his left and Hen opposite him.

“So Chim got to do the maneuver. I think it’s the only thing he likes about you not being there.”

Hen and Eddie both laugh as she finishes her story about the latest shift, and Buck manages a smile.

“C’mon, there’s so many things to enjoy about me not being there. A moment of peace and quiet has got to be up there, right?”

He sees Hen smile half-heartedly, but beside him, Eddie tenses.

“Ev. Write it down.”

Buck flushes at the scolding tone, but obligingly pulls the journal he’s started keeping in his pocket.

“Buck?”

Buck flushes deeper as Eddie rests a hand on his back reassuringly—questioningly. Buck nods as he begins scrawling in his notebook, giving Eddie permission.

“Ev’s been working on his self-talk. We’re starting by acknowledging when he talks down to himself, like he just did. He’s unpacking it all later, but for now we’re just acknowledging it in the moment.” Eddie pulls him tighter. “He’s doing so well. I’m so proud of him.”

Buck smiles shyly as he finishes writing, but he doesn’t look up until Hen responds.

“That sounds like a great idea Buckaroo. Your head hears how you talk to it, and let me tell you it deserves so much more kindness than you give it. Besides—” she waits for him to meet her gaze, “one of my favourite parts of the day is hearing what you’ve learnt on your midnight research deep dives, even if I worry that you aren’t getting enough sleep.”

Buck smiles and slips his journal back into his pocket.

Hen launches into another story, this time about a burst water pipe. Eddie pulls Buck closer and places a close-mouthed kiss to his temple. Warmth spreads through Buck. Happiness.

* * *

With Buck’s permission, word of his new therapy exercise spreads to the rest of the team.

* * *

“Buck, write it down.” Maddie gently intones as he alludes to her wasting her lunch break visiting him.

* * *

“Buck. Journal.” Athena is no-nonsense when he mentions her latest perp’s illegal endeavour is the kind of reckless thing he’d endanger his team doing.

* * *

“Buckaroo, get it down.” Chim, as he jokes about the older man having the burden of being related to him once he marries Maddie.

* * *

“Buck.” Bobby, gaze pointed towards Buck’s pocket when he compliments the Captain’s cooking with a backhand about his own.

* * *

Chris throws a purple pencil at him when Buck says Chris is smarter than dumb ol’ Buck, causing laughter and a misting of Buck’s eyes as he writes it down (in purple, of course).

* * *

“Ev, no.” Eddie, quietly slipping the journal off the side table when Buck wonders aloud before going to sleep how long until Eddie realises, he can do better.

* * *

_Lost so much muscle, so much weight. How can you ever expect to do anyone any good in a uses body like this?_

“Write it down.” Buck mutters to himself around his toothbrush. He looks at his shirtless frame in the bathroom mirror. But before he reaches for the notebook, he practices, for the first time, the second step Julia wants him to try.

“You’ve lost muscle because you were sick.” He says aloud to himself. “Your body is recovering with your mind. You’re…” he pauses, but pushes down the feeling of embarrassment. “You’re strong. You’re worth hard work.”

He finishes his teeth and goes for the journal. Eddie smiles softly from bed. He’d heard, it seems. The thought doesn’t make Buck as uncomfortable as he thought it would.

* * *

The second week of therapy leaves Buck more drained than the first. He’s physically finally starting to look better, sleeping less and eating more. But each day after therapy he curls in a quiet ball on the couch and waits for Chris to get home from school. An hour of movies with the little boy is all it takes for him to perk back up, but come Saturday Eddie wishes Buck had a day to just breathe.

But when Saturday morning comes around, and Eddie wakes as Chris wobbles the bed with his attempt to silently sneak in, Eddie sees the first of the hard work paying off.

Usually, Buck is a light sleeper. The smallest noises make him jump, if Eddie wakes and shifts so too does Buck. But this morning, though the bed dips as Chris ambles up and Eddie releases Buck as he goes to grab his son, the other man simply sighs and burrows further into Eddie’s side, nuzzling into the gap Eddie’s raised arm makes.

He still doesn’t stir when Chris lets a hushed giggle escape, or when the little boy snuggles into his side and pulls his Dad’s arm over them both.

“I think Bucky is _really_ tired Daddy.”

Eddie smiles, letting his arm curl tighter around his boys.

“I think he’s been tired for a while, and he’s just now catching up on all his sleep.”

“Oh.” Chris pauses. “I’m still a bit tired, we should all go back to sleep.”

Eddie’s smile widens. “That’s a great idea Mijo.”

Chris’s eyes close. So do Eddie’s. They sleep.

* * *

“I’m ready.”

Bobby pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth.

In the few weeks since Buck had begun therapy, Bobby had started to see the man he remembered Buck being when he’d started at the 118.

No.

He’d started to see the carefree nature of the Buck who’d started at the 118, the happiness, but the similarities ended there.

Buck stood taller. He made eye-contact more readily, expressed emotion more freely. He seemed sure of himself for the first time since Bobby had met him.

After the initial intensive counselling had ended, as promised, Buck met with Bobby, Buck’s psychologist and his primary physician. But while both medical practitioners had cleared the firefighter, Buck himself had decided to wait.

“I need to be sure.” He’d told Bobby. “I need to realise that…that I matter enough to not just run into fire and hope I’ll be okay because someone else is worth more than me. I’m trying, but I’m not there yet. I will be, though.”

It’s why Bobby doesn’t doubt him. It’s why Bobby lets the fork fall back to his plate before he stands and pulls a surprised Buck into an impromptu hug.

The kid laughs, carefree and happy as Athena joins the embrace, quietening as Eddie helps Chris complete the group hug.

Bobby sees the family the man has created, sees his strength.

“I’m so proud of you, son. We can't wait to have you home.”

* * *

It’s been a fucking long day, Buck thinks. He closes the door softly behind himself, exhausted.

The shift was endless, calls with less than an hour in between for most of the twenty-four hours he’d been there. There’d been a cake and banners awaiting him on arrival that morning, but they’d quickly been interrupted by the first of many emergencies. There’d been reprieve in the last two hours and the team had gathered to eat. Athena had dropped by, placing a kiss atop Bobby’s cheek and gathering Buck into a strong hug before helping finish the meal preparations.

The meal had tasted like home and family. The only things missing were his boys.

His first shift change in months came around and unlike the last time he’d been in the station he hadn’t been in any rush to leave. Conversation had flowed as the last of the cake was passed around (except the slices he’d saved for Eddie and Chris), and second shift joined the first in the lull between calls and shifts.

But unlike _before_ , home is as alluring as the firehouse. Because Chris and Eddie are home.

He slips his shoes off next to the closed door and throws his keys next to Eddie’s in the bowl on the kitchen bench. He follows the sounds of the television to the living room.

His boys are on the couch, Chris curled into Eddie’s chest. Eddie’s hand rests on the small of his son’s back, loosely curled where it had obviously been holding earlier.

Buck doesn’t wake them.

He slips into Eddie’s room, _their room_ and changes his work clothes for sweats.

He slips back into the living room, turns the TV off and curls up with his boys.

It’s been a long day, Buck thinks. But getting to come home to this makes it worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn’t realise this was going to be the last chapter until I started writing it. And suddenly, here we were. I hope I did this journey justice. Thank you all so much for the support with my first incursion into the 9-1-1 fandom. What started as a two short certainly grew! I’m hoping to be here to stay!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of the ending, I hope you see the circular nature of it and that it didn't disappoint. Again, thanks heaps! I’ve attached the summary of my upcoming 9-1-1 fic (Oneshot, two shot?) below; keep an eye out for it!
> 
> >Double Dosed<
> 
> Chim realises he is startling, stone cold sober. And Buck is not. Buck is wide eyed drooling, spacy and stumbling—stumbling right out into the middle of the road.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please let me know what you thought :)


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